A Birthday to Remember
by Neuropsych
Summary: Montana! What could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So the birthday story! Remember that this is happening just after Transitions and still in my own AU, so definitely don't read this without reading the others, or you'll be lost when you realize the relationships that are established. I don't necessarily have any particular plot line to follow on this one – it's just a chance to have some fun with the characters that I've developed. If trouble develops in the course of the story, well that's Montana for you!_

OOOOOOOOO

He woke when they joined him in his bed, but he didn't open his eyes. If they were assassins bent on murdering him in his sleep, his spider senses would have warned him and he would have been on his feet immediately. As it was, he simply debated going back to sleep as one claimed the left side of his bed, and the other moved in on his right, flanking him.

A finger poked him in the side and he rolled away from it, cuddling up against the one on his left side, feeling an arm come around him, blankets and all and hearing a soft, familiar chuckle.

"Are you planning on sleeping all day?" Tony asked from behind him.

"No. What time is it?"

He still hadn't opened his eyes, but he knew it was Pepper who was holding him, and Tony who was poking him.

"Seven. You've been sixteen for seven hours, now. Happy birthday."

He smiled, feeling a thrill go through him. Not so much because he was sixteen, now, but because of everything that it meant. Especially today.

"Technically, I've been sixteen for 3 hours. I was born at 4 am."

Someone kissed his cheek. From the facial hair pressing against him, he assumed it was Tony. He opened his eyes, finally, and saw Pepper and Tony both watching him. Both already dressed sharply and ready for their day. He was wearing a pair of sweats and wasn't even close. But he was a teenager, and once moving, it wouldn't take him long, he knew.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Pepper told him, letting him go and leaning over to kiss his cheek, also, before sitting up so that he could.

She was wearing a pantsuit that did nothing to hide that she was beautiful. Peter often thought Tony was a pretty lucky guy – and _not_ because he had a lot of money.

"Thanks."

"Happy is driving Pepper to work today. _I'm_ driving you in. Your appointment is at 9 o'clock, so I suggest you get dressed and come have some breakfast before we go."

"Okay."

"Are you nervous?" Pepper asked.

"No." he shrugged, and then smiled. "A _little_. More worried about not passing and having to wait to try again."

"You're going to be great," Tony assured him, ruffling his hair before pushing himself off the bed. "You learned from the best, after all."

Pepper rolled her eyes, but also got out of his bed.

"Come eat, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be right there."

They left and he got up. He went to the dresser to get clean clothes and then headed for his bathroom. Had to make sure he looked good, after all. If he passed, he was going to be stuck with the picture for several years. Better make sure it was a good one.

" _Happy birthday, Peter."_

"Thanks, Karen."

OOOOOOOO

The line at the DMV was long and moved slowly, giving Peter and Tony plenty of time to wait side by side, and Peter plenty of time to people watch. Which was something that he thoroughly enjoyed doing. No one recognized Tony, which wasn't so surprising, really. He wasn't _Ironman_ just then, simply one more father waiting with a son to get through a lot of red tape. There were several in the waiting room just then.

"Do you feel any _older_?" Tony asked him, aware that the longer they waited the more the boy tended to overthink something, and maybe would allow himself to get nervous. Better to distract him, if he could.

"Not really. Do I _look_ older?"

"Nope." Tony smiled and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair. "Same scrawny kid."

"You guys should feed me more…"

Stark rolled his eyes.

"I can barely afford to feed you, _now_."

They both grinned at that, and stepped up to the window when their number was called.

"Driver's test?" the bored clerk asked, redundantly.

"Yes, ma'am," Peter said.

She handed him a form on a clipboard.

"Go park in space number 9 and wait for your examiner, please."

"Thank you."

They moved away from the window and Tony handed him the keys to the car.

"You'll do fine. _Really_."

"Thanks."

"I'll be here, somewhere."

"Okay."

Peter left the waiting room, and Tony reclaimed his spot, pulling out his phone to distract himself now that Peter didn't need his attention.

OOOOOOOO

He waited for several minutes. Natasha had told him to make sure that he was already buckled in when the examiner joined him, so he had his seatbelt on and was ready to go, tapping a finger nervously on the steering wheel. When the examiner walked up, Peter could see the man look at the car and then look at him, and then look at the car once more. Obviously admiring it. Finally he opened the door.

"Peter Parker?"

"Yes, sir."

"A _Lamborghini_?"

"Yeah. Sorry. It's what I learned in, so we thought I should do the test in it."

The man got into the car, smiling despite the fact that what he was doing was important business and he took his job seriously.

"Don't apologize. This will be a first for me. My name is Stan, and I'll be conducting your driver's test today. Please ask if you have any questions, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Nice car."

"It's not mine."

"Your dad's?"

"Yeah. I have a Pontiac."

The examiner nodded, understandingly.

"My first car was a piece of crap, too. I suppose it's always that way. Without turning on the ignition, move your foot from the accelerator to the brake a few times, will you?"

Peter did what he was told, apparently proving to Stan that he could stop quickly if needed. The examiner then told him to start the car and gestured to an area on the side of the DMV building that was clearly set up for parallel parking.

"Give it a whirl."

Peter had no trouble doing so, and Stan made a notation on the paper on the clipboard and gestured for Peter to head out onto the street.

OOOOOOO

" _How's it going?"_

"I'm still waiting."

" _Is Peter with you?"_

"No. He's out doing the driver's test. It's been almost forty minutes since they sent him out."

" _That seems to be a little longer than mine took – but that was a long time ago."_

"Yeah. I've seen kids leaving and come back already. It's taking longer."

" _Maybe that's a good thing."_

Tony wasn't so sure. He started to answer, but then caught sight of Peter coming through the door.

"He's done. We'll come see you when we're done here."

" _Okay. Fingers crossed."_

"Yeah. Love you. Bye."

He stood up when Peter walked over, a man who was almost certainly the person doing the exam walking with him. That seemed unusual, too.

"Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the man, but asking both of them.

Peter didn't seem upset.

"It's great, Mr. Stark," the man told him. "I just wanted to let you know that Peter just saved our lives."

Tony frowned.

"Really? What happened?"

"It's not that big a deal," Peter started to say.

"A van ran a red light going at a high rate of speed and Peter managed to not only stop in time to avoid us getting hit, he also managed to avoid the distracted driver that came through right behind him. I didn't even see that car – it's incredible that _he_ did. He wasn't even at the right angle."

"You're okay?" Stark asked.

Peter nodded.

"Yeah. There's not even a scratch on the car."

Tony obviously wasn't worried about the car. His gaze lingered on Peter for just a moment longer, as if making sure he really was alright, and then turned to the examiner.

"So, how did he do?"

"Oh, he _passed_. Absolutely. He did great – even before the incident."

Peter grinned, and Tony slapped him on the arm.

"Good job."

"Thanks."

Stan handed Peter the paper from the clipboard.

"Take this to the window with you, and they'll issue you your license."

"Thank you."

The examiner nodded and left, and Tony put his arm over Peter's shoulder, pleased and maybe just a little relieved.

"I told you you'd be fine."

"Yeah."

"What happened with the van?"

"Felt it coming and had plenty of time to stop."

Which was an application for those spider senses that Tony hadn't thought of – but would definitely come in handy to make Pepper feel better about turning Peter loose on the road by himself. And maybe him, as well.

"You didn't get hurt?"

"No. I'm okay, really."

"Good. Let's get your paperwork taken care of and then mess with Pepper."

"Um. Okay."


	2. Chapter 2

They spent another thirty minutes in the DMV before they were able to leave. Despite the fact that he was now officially licensed, Peter wasn't old enough to drive in the city because of their specific laws, so it was Tony who was behind the wheel once more when they pulled into the garage under the tower. He smiled, though, when every time he looked over at the boy he was looking at the paper representation of his driver's license.

"When we see Pepper act _sad_ ," Tony told him when they got out of the car and headed for the elevator. "Or upset, at least. We'll let her assume the worst…"

"You know I'm not a very good liar…"

" _I'll_ do the lying," he assured him. "Like I said, _you_ just act sad."

Peter gave him a dubious look, but nodded. When the elevator door opened, he and Tony walked out into the party area. They were going to go to Pepper's office, but stopped when they saw that she was at the bar, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She turned at their entrance.

"How did it go?"

Peter forced down his excited grin and tried to look upset. Tony shook his head.

"Not well… something about rear ending a police cruiser and running over a bike messenger."

"He didn't." she looked at Peter. "You _didn't_ …"

He couldn't help himself; the smile won and came forth, which made her smile, too, realizing that she was being played.

"You passed?"

Peter nodded, and she hugged him, kissing his cheek.

"Good for you." She let him go and looked over at Stark. " _You're_ sleeping on the couch tonight."

He only smiled, too, always smug when he'd managed to fool her. It didn't happen often, after all.

"It was easy," Peter told her. "I worried for nothing."

"You do that a lot," she pointed out, softening the criticism with another smile and a hand on his arm. "Can I see it?"

He pulled the small piece of paper from his pocket – he would have to put it in his wallet soon, or it was going to get wrinkled – and handed it to her.

"It's not the _real_ one," he explained, too excited about the whole idea of having his license to realize that she'd gotten her license before and knew how the process worked. "That comes in the mail. This one is just a copy."

"It's a good picture," she told him, handing it back to the boy. "We'll celebrate tonight, okay? That way Ned and MJ can gloat with you."

"Okay."

"We can have cake, and presents," Tony told them.

Peter frowned.

"You don't get presents for passing your driver's test."

"You _should_."

"I don't _need_ any," he said. "I have everything I want."

And then some.

"Fine. No driver's license presents. But we'll still celebrate. You wouldn't deny us a chance to have cake, right?"

"It's my _birthday_ ," he reminded him. "We can have _birthday_ cake."

"We're doing your official birthday party Saturday evening," Pepper told him. "At the cabin. Cake, presents, ice cream and all the trimmings."

"How are we going to snowmobile in a birthday cake?" Peter asked, curiously.

"We're not. We're going to _pretend_ to – because of MJ – but Stephen will help us with that when the time comes."

"You guys know I don't want any presents from you, right?"

"We _know_ ," Tony told him. "But we can't have a birthday party without presents. How would it look if Ned and MJ outshine us giving you gifts, and Pepper and I don't have anything to give you?"

"You spent hours teaching me to drive. That was the present I wanted."

"That was fun. That can't be your present. That's like you buying me dinner and then eating it because it's your favorite dish."

They both looked at him, and he shrugged.

"You know what I mean. Just let us get you presents, okay? If you don't, Pepper will piss and moan and pout. And you know what she's like when she's not happy…" Pepper gave him a look that warned him he was getting close to the line, and he gestured at her. " _See_? Like that."

Peter smiled.

"Fine. But nothing big. Okay?"

"Bigger than whatever Ned gets you."

"Fine."

"Good."

Tony looked at Pepper.

"We'll see you back at the compound?"

"Yes. With the kids."

Stark kissed her, then brushed another kiss against her cheek – a wordless apology for being an ass.

"Have a good day, dear."

She smiled – a wordless acceptance of his apology – and nodded.

"I'm going to make a call and get our new driver put on the insurance plan."

Which made Peter grin, and Tony groan, dramatically.

"Do you have any idea what it costs to insure a _teenage boy_? We can't afford that."

"Daddy just will have to wait for the new fishing boat, I suppose." She reached for her phone, and shooed them both away. "Stay out of trouble."

OOOOOOO

Tony drove them back to the compound. They didn't speak too much, or about anything to important, but that was fine. Both of them were comfortable enough with the other that they didn't need to fill in any silences – although occasionally Stark would grin and cheerfully slap Peter's left arm with the back of his hand, proving that even if he wasn't talking to him, he was obviously thinking about him.

It made the boy smile, every time.

When they pulled into the garage, Peter automatically looked at the Pontiac, and realized something had changed. Where there had once been a very expired license plate on the back of the car, a shiny new vanity plate was now affixed in its rightful spot. PARKER1.

Tony noticed, as well.

"I still would have gone with CATCHMEIFYOUCAN."

"That wouldn't have fit," Peter pointed out, grinning. Tony's cars all had _his_ last name. If it was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for Peter. "Besides, I don't _want_ people trying to catch me."

"You make a good point." They stopped at the entrance to the garage. "You're going to do homework?"

"Yes."

"You're not taking any with you to Montana. You _know_ that, right?"

"Which is why I need to get it done, now."

"Fine. Lunch in the lounge, okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'll have Friday call Karen – or you have Karen call Friday if you get hungry sooner."

"Okay."

They parted ways, and he headed for his quarters, feeling about as happy as he could. Happy enough to be willing to work on a couple of essays that he needed to write for English. He seated himself on the floor in front of his sofa, using it as a backrest and the coffee table as a desk and opened a document that he'd actually started the day before.

That one was easily finished, and the next one was well begun when his spider senses and a knock on the door both made him look up and see that Natasha was peeking into his room.

"Busy?"

He smiled and shook his head. He would never be too busy for her.

"Not at all."

"You're not eating a hot fudge sundae and drowning your sorrows in ice cream and chocolate," she noted as she walked over and sat down on the couch. "Does that mean that you _passed_?"

Peter grinned and nodded. He stood up so he could sit beside her and pulled out his license for her to see.

"Good for you!" she admired it far longer than she really needed to – it _wasn't_ a complicated document, after all. "Take me for a ride?"

He felt another thrill go through him, and nodded, feeling proud and excited and something else that he didn't know how to articulate. He _could_ take her for a ride, now. He could take _anyone_ , if they wanted. Not because they were experienced drivers and he had to have one with him in order to go anywhere, but because they _wanted_ to come. He could just hop in the car and go – even if it was just to the gas station down the road for a fountain pop and a pepperoni stick. Which he could just go to the bar in the lounge to get, if he _wanted_ one. He had a newfound freedom, and it was exhilarating.

"Let me ask Tony if I can."

 _Limited_ freedom. But still freedom.

He was far too responsible to just leave without telling Tony where he'd be, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where's Peter?"

Stark looked up from his tablet and saw Clint and Steve standing by the corner table in the lounge where he'd planted himself, waiting to have lunch and double checking that his systems were all up to date.

"He took Romanoff for a drive."

"By themselves?" Clint asked.

Tony nodded.

"Yeah. He has his license, and he's a good driver. Besides, it's _Romanoff_ and his _dad's car_. He'll be careful."

Steve sat down.

"Are you nervous about turning him loose on the road?"

"I _am_. But not because of _him_. Like I said; he's a good driver. And he's cautious by nature. It's the people who will driving out there around him that have me concerned. There are a lot of idiots out there."

"And drunks," Clint added, also sitting down. "And druggies. And people texting while eating and doing their makeup."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, Barton. I feel a lot better now."

"Just telling it how I see it."

"Well, stop."

A motion at the entrance to the lounge caught his eye and he saw Peter and Natasha walking in, both looking cheerful. Clint got up and hurried to meet them, grabbing Peter around the waist in a hug before the boy could stop him – not that he would have.

"Happy birthday!"

Peter grinned. It was a hug, but somehow he still ended up being wrestled to the ground and pinned under Barton, who obviously was planning on thumping his chest 16 times instead of opting for the traditional 16 swats.

"Thanks."

Peter rolled under him before he got to more than a few thumps and slipped out of his grasp so he could scramble to his feet, and then offered Clint a hand up.

"Be careful, Clint," Natasha warned. "He's _driving_ , now. We don't want to injure his driving hand."

They headed towards the table, and Tony and Steve.

"How was the ride?" Clint asked as they sat down and Tony slapped Peter's shoulder in his most common greeting.

"It was great," Natasha told him. "We put the top down."

Stark frowned.

"It's _50 degrees_ out."

"We had the heat on."

"It was still pretty cold," Peter admitted. "But fun."

"Where did you go?" Tony asked.

"To the gas station."

Natasha smiled.

"Peter knows how to show a woman a good time."

Now Peter smiled, too, and gestured toward Stark.

"Learned from the best."

"Hey!"

"He _did_ buy me a corndog," Natasha admitted.

Stark looked at Peter.

"You let her _eat_ in your car?"

"I trust her."

"Did _you_ eat already, then?"

"No. I'm not going to try to eat and drive until I have a bit more experience under my belt. Besides, I don't trust _me_."

"He's a good driver, Tony," Natasha told him, seriously – although she was still smiling. "You did a good job teaching him."

Torn between preening and frowning, Stark opted to preen. He was always pleased when an experiment or project turned out right, but he was more pleased – and a little relieved – that she was able to make him feel that much better about the boy driving himself places.

"Good. Thanks." His attention went to Peter. "Are you ready to eat?"

"Yeah." He was starving Natasha's corndog had looked pretty good. "You guys eating?"

Steve shook his head.

"We already did. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thank you."

"We were told that presents have to wait until Saturday," Barton told him. "Even mine. So you'll have to wait."

"But _you're_ not going to be there," Peter pointed out. "It doesn't count."

Barton was going to fly them to Montana in the Quinjet, and was going to drop the copious amount of supplies that they were taking at the cabin itself, even though they weren't able to land near the cabin and would snowmobile in. But he was spending the weekend with his family, as he normally did, and would pick them up Monday.

"You'll have to argue that with Pepper," Steve told him. "I was dragooned into promising that I would take Clint's present with us so you could get it on Saturday. It's already packed in my bag."

Peter smiled, glad that Steve had decided to join them. He could have spent his weekend doing anything, and Peter knew he had plenty that he liked to do on the weekends, but he'd decided that he would take a mini vacation with the others.

Captain America had never been sledding, either.

"I can wait." He leaned back. "You guys know you don't have to get me anything, right?"

"Of _course_ we do," Clint said. "It's the whole point of a birthday party. And don't forget; _mine_ is coming."

He winked, and Peter smiled.

"Go order us up some lunch, Peter," Tony told him. "I'm hungry."

Peter was, too. He got up and headed to the bar, and the adults at the table watched as the bartender hugged him – obviously telling him happy birthday – and then must have asked about his driver's test, since the boy reached into his pocket to pull out his paper license once more and handed it to her to admire.

"He did okay?" Stark asked Natasha.

"Yeah. He's going to be fine."

"You're just saying that because he bought you a corndog," Barton accused her.

She shrugged.

"What can I say? I've always been a sucker for the finer things in life."

OOOOOOOOO

Lunch was eaten alone. The others had things that they had to get done to prepare for the extended weekend, and had left the lounge to get them done. Peter and Tony didn't linger over their meal, and when they were done, Tony asked about his homework, making sure that he wasn't stressing about it. In the last five days, they'd only had one sleepwalking episode, and that one had found Peter ending up in the garage and the teleporting stone still on the boy's nightstand where it belonged.

They were winning, and Stark wanted to keep it that way.

"I got some done," Peter told him. "Still have a bit, but it's not too bad."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"Only if you want to read a book for me and write an essay on it."

"Nope."

"Then I'm good."

"You can bring the _book_ with you," Tony said. "It'll give you something to read on the flight – there or back."

"Okay."

"Before we turn to other matters," Stark said, pushing his plate away and turning his full attention on the boy sitting across from him. "Is there anything that you want? A cool new toy? A new version of a video game? Something that you would like to have but it's just not something you would normally ask for? Today is the day to tell me – because it's the best chance you have of actually getting it. No matter how ridiculous."

Peter shook his head.

"I have everything I need."

"But do you have everything you _want_?" Tony asked him, seriously. "I know that there are some things I _can't_ do…" he didn't mention May, but they were both thinking of her just then. "But there are a lot of things that I _can_. Anything you secretly want but were afraid to ask for?"

"I can't think of anything."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. My license was pretty high on the list, and I have it, now – with a lot of help from you."

"You did the hard part."

The boy shrugged, but didn't argue – even though Tony had invested a lot of hours into helping Peter prepare for his test. Hours that could have been spent tinkering in his workshop, remaking the newest version of the Ironman suit.

"I'm good."

Stark rubbed his cheek, debating if he wanted to make more suggestions, but short of a _hooker_ or something, he couldn't think of anything he could get the boy, either, that he didn't already have – or at least have access to. And _that_ would not go over well with Pepper. Besides, Peter would probably blush the moment he mentioned something like that. He smiled at the image that that particular train of thought brought up, and shrugged.

"Did you have anything planned for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Spend time with you?" Peter suggested. "Unless you're doing something important?"

Tony made a show of stretching, nonchalantly, and shrugged.

"I had planned on doing a couple of crosswords…" he said. "But I could be talked into working on the new version of your web fluid, if you're interested."

Peter grinned.

"That would be great."


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost a custom by now that they were in the garage when Pepper pulled into the compound at the end of the day. Both of them liked to see her smile when she saw them waiting for her – which made the waiting worthwhile, and it was an added bonus for Peter that day that Ned and MJ were both in the car with her.

Ned waited just long enough for the car to stop before opening the door and getting out of the back seat.

"Happy birthday. Let me see it."

Peter had texted him to let him know that he'd passed his test, of course, but hadn't taken a picture of the license, wanting to make it a little more dramatic. He grinned and pulled his license out of his pocket – it was getting a bit wrinkled by then – and handed it over to Ned.

"Happy birthday, Peter," MJ told him, smiling over the car at him.

He blushed, but smiled.

"Thanks."

Stark gave Pepper an amused smile.

"Did _you_ have a good day?"

"Yes. What did you guys do?"

"Peter took Natasha for a ride in his car."

"Really?" Pepper smiled. "That didn't take long."

"Can he take _us_ for a ride?" Ned asked, excited, handing Peter back his license and looking hopefully at Tony.

Tony hesitated, but only for a moment – and you had to know him well to notice it.

"If he wants."

"Peter?"

"Yeah. Of course." He looked at MJ. "Want to go?"

"Sure."

"Not for long, though," Pepper said. "Back in time to eat at a reasonable hour."

"Okay."

Ned opened the back door of the Pontiac and got in before they could change their minds, deferring the front seat to MJ since it was the chivalrous thing to do, he knew. Besides, he was at the compound a lot more than she was – he knew he'd have plenty of chances to ride in the car with just him and Peter.

"Have fun, guys."

Tony put an arm around Pepper's waist, and the two watched as Peter and MJ got into the car as well, and Peter started the engine. He tightened his hold just a little as the car reversed enough to turn and then it was driven out of the garage and the door closed behind them.

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you don't stop worrying about him," Stark told Pepper, feeling the tension in her body from his contact with her.

"I know. I can't help it."

She leaned against him for just a moment. "It's new, now. I'll relax a bit when he's done it a few times, I suppose."

"He'll be _fine_." Tony kissed her temple and let her go, then pulled her work bag out of the car for her. "And so will you. Let's go find something to do until they get back."

OOOOOOOOO

"How was the test?" Ned asked as Peter drove them down the access road toward the highway. "Did you fail anything?"

Peter shook his head.

"It was easier than I thought it would be. The guy just tells you where to go, and when to turn and all you have to do is remember to turn on your blinker and try not to run anyone over."

"Did you take your test in this?" MJ asked.

Both of them were close to being old enough to get their licenses, as well, but neither actually had a reason to do so, since they lived in the city and couldn't actually drive there until they were seventeen. Peter had a reason to be excited. Even though he couldn't drive in the city, there were plenty of places that he could go outside of the city. Especially since he lived at the compound.

"No. I used the Lamborghini."

She shook her head.

"Mr. Stark's going to teach me how to drive it, too," Ned told her from the back seat as they pulled onto the highway. "Maybe I'll be able to take my test in it, too."

"Probably," Peter agreed. He grinned at his friend in the reflection of the rearview mirror. "If he doesn't, you can use this."

Ned's eyebrows rose and vanished into his bangs.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Of course. You can't drive it until you've had some lessons, though."

Ned was his best friend, after all, and had proven it a million times. Of course he could use it.

"Thanks, Peter."

He shrugged, and focused his attention back to the road, well aware that he was responsible for their safety and not taking that responsibility lightly.

"Where are we going to go?" MJ asked, curiously. "There isn't much around here, is there?"

"No. Not really. I filled up the tank earlier, so we can just go for a drive. I don't want to be gone too long, the first few times I drive alone – I think it freaks Tony out."

"And Pepper," MJ added. "She looked a little worried, too."

MJ had already proven that she was extremely observant.

"Yeah."

They drove as far as the truck stop down the highway, and Peter pulled into the parking lot in order to turn around. He was flagged down by a familiar state patrol trooper who was leaning on his cruiser talking to a trucker and holding a cup of coffee. The Pontiac pulled up beside the two men and Peter rolled down the window.

"License, son…"

Peter grinned and handed it over, while the trucker walked around the car, obviously admiring it.

"This yours?" the man asked, coming back to stand by the police officer.

Peter nodded.

"Yeah."

"You passed on your first try?" the officer asked, rhetorically, handing the license back to the boy. "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

The officer grinned, poking the trucker with his elbow.

"I pulled him over one time for going too slow. It was hilarious. He looked nervous as hell."

Peter shook his head, blushing, but also amused – and hoping that MJ couldn't hear.

"I'd never been pulled over before," he reminded the trooper.

"It's getting dark," the officer told him, slapping his hand on the hood of the car. "Get home before the folks start worrying about you, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Peter rolled the window back up and turned the Pontiac toward the compound.

"How fast were you going when he pulled you over?" MJ asked, before Ned could.

"Fifteen miles an hour – something like that."

She snorted.

"Seriously?"

"It was my first time on the highway," he said, only slightly defensive, but definitely blushing. " _And_ the first time I drove the Lamborghini with Tony. I was pretty nervous."

Ned laughed.

"I wish I'd seen that."

The conversation turned to the upcoming trip, and MJ asked who all was going. Peter was naming the list – which wasn't a long one – when he suddenly felt an intense tingle that told him to hit the brakes, which he did without thinking. The Pontiac stopped just as a deer ran out onto the road, right where they would have been. The creature kept going, oblivious to the audience it had, and Ned swore.

"Holy _shit_! We would have hit it." He slapped the back of Peter's seat. "Nice driving, Peter."

Peter started breathing, again, and then pressed the accelerator, gaining speed once more since he didn't feel any further tingling.

MJ looked over at him, curiously.

"How did you know to stop?" she asked.

He flushed.

"Saw it coming. Out of the corner of my eye…"

"I didn't."

He shrugged.

"You weren't watching for it," he told her. "I know there are a lot of deer out here. We see them standing on the road sometimes. It was one of the first things Tony taught me – to watch out for deer, I mean."

Which wasn't even close to the truth, but was all he could think of.

She gave him a skeptical look, but then turned her attention to the trees on either side of the road as they continued their drive back home. Peter caught Ned's reflection in the rearview mirror once more, and his friend grinned, and made a motion – pretending to wipe sweat from his brow.

Yeah. That had been a close one.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Just wanted to remind people before I mention Peter or anyone playing chess in the story – which they might, of course – that I had him playing chess before the A4 title was announced, so I'm not using chess references because of the title. And I cannot wait for April. Also, I hope no one is annoyed by the slow buildup to the actual trip part of the story. It's his birthday, it should be celebrated on the day as well._

OOOOOOO

Dinner was in the lounge as it normally was. Since Pepper preferred to eat there, they ate there. It wasn't as boisterous as the commissary usually was, since there were less tables and there was a lot less shouting to get the attention of your seatmate, which made it more intimate. _Usually_. This time there were several people around a couple of tables that had been pushed together, and many more people would stop by and tell Peter happy birthday, or congratulate him and ask to see his license.

He would simply grin and pull it out for the person to admire, and would then put it back in his pocket when that person had moved on. The meal wasn't anything special, but it was – _purposely_ – one of Peter's favorites, and when they were done eating, the bartender had produced a very large cake in the shape of the Pontiac, with white frosting and the words _Way to go Peter!_ crossing the windshield.

"It's not a _birthday_ cake," Tony reminded him when Ned asked where the candles were. "We'll save that for Saturday."

When the cake had been distributed among not only the people at their table but everyone in the lounge who wanted a piece, they cleared the dishes and discussed the plan for the next morning.

"I don't want you guys up late tonight," Tony told Peter and Ned. "We're getting up fairly early and I don't want a lot of grumbling."

"Okay."

"Steve has put all of the supplies that we're taking with us – except for the outerwear that we'll need while snowmobiling into the cabin – into a drop crate. Bring your bags to the jet pad this evening so he can add those to the inventory, and then we can get it loaded. We can't land the jet safely at the cabin, but when we get there, we'll drop that crate so everything will be waiting when we arrive."

"Won't it break in the fall?" Ned asked, before MJ or Peter could.

"We'll use a guidewire," Steve told him from his spot beside Natasha, who was also sitting next to Stephen Strange, who had come for dinner and to make sure he was in on the plan for the next day, as well. He wasn't going to be able to just pop himself in and out of the cabin with MJ accompanying them – unless he wanted to allow the girl to know what his abilities were, which he didn't feel like dealing with – so he had brought his bag to be added to the crate and had joined in the celebration of Peter's driver's license since he was there. "That way we can drop it where we want, and make sure we don't damage anything when we do."

"We do it all the time," Barton assured them.

"Once we drop the crate, Clint's going to land at a small clearing we found that isn't too far away – a couple of miles, or so – and then we will take to snowmobiles to get to the cabin."

Ned and Peter both grinned, enthusiastically, and even MJ couldn't hide her excitement at the idea of snowmobiling for the first time – although she tried.

"And then I will come back for you guys at the prescribed time Monday morning," Clint added, licking frosting from his fingers.

"Who's flying home with you?" Peter asked curiously, aware that for any lengthy flight, the rule was there was supposed to be a copilot.

"Nick has volunteered for that honor," Tony told him.

"He can fly?" Peter asked, surprised.

"He can do a _lot_ of things that might surprise you, Mr. Parker," came the director's deep voice from right behind him. They all turned to see that Fury had joined them in the lounge, and was walking over with a plate that had a slice of cake on it. "Flying is one of my _least_ impressive abilities. Happy birthday, by the way."

Peter smiled. He'd felt the gentle warning he normally received when someone he knew was close, but it rarely gave him any indication who it was – Natasha being the exception. He always knew when _she_ was close at hand. Ned told him it was probably because she was _Black Widow_ and it was one spider recognizing another, but Peter wasn't so sure.

"Thanks, Nick."

A small, neatly wrapped package was fished from a pocket and dropped on the table in front of him.

"You're welcome. I'll see you guys in the morning."

He nodded a goodbye and left without another word, munching on his cake as he did.

Peter picked up the gift, but Tony reached for it and took it from him and handed it over to Steve.

"No presents until _Saturday_ ," he said, winking at the boy, cheerfully. "You can wait until then."

"What if it's an ice cream bar?" Peter asked.

"It isn't."

"It might be."

"You really think Fury would give you an ice cream bar?" Natasha asked, amused at the attempt to circumvent the gift rule.

"He _might_. I _do_ like ice cream, after all, and he knows it."

"It's not an ice cream bar," Pepper assured him, also amused.

"How do you know?" Ned asked.

He was as familiar with Pepper as almost all of them – except Tony and Peter, of course. He spent a lot of time in the car with her going to and from the compound on the weekends, especially lately, and they talked. A lot.

"He told me what he got him, to make sure it's not a repeat gift."

"Oh." Ned shrugged. "Sorry, Peter. I tried."

Which made Peter smile and give him a _what can you do_ look.

"Any questions?" Tony asked the entire table. When they all shook their heads, he nodded and looked at the kids. "Drop your bags at the jet pad before you get too involved in the video games, and be in bed by 11, okay?"

"Yeah."

"We'll have breakfast at 8 and be out of here by 9:30 or so."

Ned and MJ nodded, as well, and Ned stood up. He was eager to play Peter's VR system until bedtime – and Peter was always willing. MJ shrugged and stood up as well. She wasn't the gamer that they were, but she liked the VR system. It was fun. Not something she could for hours at a time like they could – but, then, no one seemed to be able to do that like they could.

They said goodnight and left.

Tony looked at Clint.

"You sure you don't want to just bring the family to the cabin for the weekend? There's room and Steve's bringing Jack, so you guys could bring Nick Furry."

Barton shook his head.

"MY daughter would drive Peter crazy."

"Lila has a crush on Peter," Natasha told Stark, smiling.

"What? How? She hasn't even met him."

"She's talked to him on skype," Clint said. "And he's very charming with her – which only made it _worse_. He wouldn't get any time with you guys if she came with us."

"The offer stands until morning," Tony told him.

"Thanks." Barton stood up, and so did Steve. "I'm going to go make sure we've got the guidewires situated, and I'll make sure the crate gets loaded tonight. You guys need me to take anything for you?"

"We're all packed," Pepper told him. "Tanks."

Hawkeye and Steve left, leaving Tony and Pepper with Stephen and Natasha.

"Cup of coffee and some Pinochle?" Stark asked.

The others agreed. It was a good way to spend an evening, and far more relaxing than trying to defeat a bunch of VR bad guys with a glowing stick.


	6. Chapter 6

The boys walked with MJ to her quarters where her bags had been left, and waited while she gathered everything but what she would need for the next day's traveling into a single bag and zipped it up. Then they walked to Peter's quarters and she sat on the sofa, watching Ned do the same.

"What did you get Peter?" she asked Ned when their friend had vanished into his bedroom to get his things.

"I'll tell you later," Ned said.

"He can't _hear_ you," she pointed out, gesturing to the closed door, which meant he was probably changing into sweats or something equally comfortable to sleep in.

Ned gave her a mysterious look.

"The walls in here have ears…"

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked, a little annoyed at the weird way he'd said it.

And because she wanted to make sure they hadn't gotten him the same thing.

"It means Karen is listening, and if I tell you, she might tell Peter."

"Who?"

"Peter's AI," Ned explained. "Artificial Intelligence. Like the one Mr. Stark has in his suit and in his cars, and in his quarters – and maybe everywhere in the compound and the tower, I'm not sure. I haven't seen it in action, really."

"What are you talking about?"

Ned decided it was easier to demonstrate.

"Karen? Can you turn on the TV, please?"

" _Sure."_

The TV in the living room suddenly came on, and MJ stared at it, and looked around, trying to find the speakers that the feminine voice had come from. It had seemed to be everywhere.

"Who was that?"

Ned grinned, pleased that he knew something that she didn't. She was pretty smart, after all – which was saying something, coming from him.

"That was _Karen_. She keeps an eye on things for Peter, here in his room. And can interface with Friday, who is Mr. Stark's AI, in case something happens that he needs to know about."

"Like what?" she asked, curiously, getting up and walking around the room, obviously looking for a control panel or some other point of contact for the AI.

Ned knew that she wouldn't find one. It wasn't there. He'd looked, himself, already.

"Mostly in case he sleepwalks," he told her. It wasn't a secret that he did it, Peter had mentioned it to her weeks ago. He certainly wasn't going to tell her about Peter's other nocturnal activities. Robin didn't tell on _Batman_ , after all, and he knew it wasn't his place to reveal Peter's secret. "He could hurt himself if he went outside and didn't know what he was doing."

"Oh."

She was clearly processing that when the door to Peter's bedroom opened and he walked out wearing sweats and a pullover sweatshirt, carrying a duffle bag. Both of them looked at him, and he frowned.

"What?"

"I told her about Karen," Ned explained, shrugging. "And explained what she was."

"Oh. Okay."

"That's impressive tech," MJ said, looking around, still.

"Mr. Stark doesn't have any tech that isn't impressive," Ned said, wisely, obviously still in awe of his friend's connection to Ironman. "The toaster probably butters the bread for him."

"No, he still has to do that," Peter said, smiling. "Do you have everything?"

"Yeah."

"Karen? Is Steve at the jet pad?"

" _Yes. So is Clint Barton."_

"Where's Natasha?" Ned asked, grinning because Peter had already given him permission to interact with the AI – and he loved it.

Anything with that much technology involved was sure to be a win with Ned.

" _In the lounge."_

Peter rolled his eyes, knowing that Ned was showing off a little, but he didn't say anything. Whatever made his friend happy – and that clearly did.

"Let's go drop this stuff off before he goes to bed."

HE picked up his bag and MJ's, and waited while Ned got his, then the three went through the corridors and out the exit closest to the jet. Sure enough, Clint and Steve Rogers were both packing a large, heavy-looking metal crate that was holding everything from snowshoes to skis and sleds – as well as assorted baggage and food items and who knew what else. Steve smiled a greeting to the three, which made MJ smile in response, and he took the bags from the boys.

"Got everything?"

"Yeah."

"Is there a kitchen sink in here?" Barton asked, holding up Ned's bag, which he had taken from Steve.

"Everything but that," Ned told him. "My mom's _crazy_. She acted like we were going to Siberia and would be gone for a month."

Clint nodded.

"Moms are like that."

"She sent a birthday present for you, too, Peter," he told his friend. "So make sure you pretend to like it."

They didn't linger at the jet, well aware that they were just in the way, really, and wanting to have some time to play VR before bedtime. Instead, they headed back to Peter's room, and spent the evening playing video games.

OOOOOOO

 _There was a cake. It was set in front of him with a flourish from his mother, who was wearing a pointed party hat held onto her head with a rubber band under her chin. The cake was a simple one, white frosting and a clown drawn in the middle. Peter felt a thrill go through him, knowing it was his favorite kind. He looked over at Spot, was watching, intently, because he liked cake, too. There were four candles that his father carefully lit before telling him to make a wish and blow them out._

 _"What if I don't blow them all out?" He asked. "Does the wish still come true?"_

 _"Of course it does," May told him, touching his chin and smiling at him. "Don't worry."_

 _He needn't have been concerned. The candles went out in one puff, and as he watched everyone clapped._

 _"What did you wish for?" his father asked him, leaning over him from behind and pressing his bearded cheek against his own, making Peter automatically raise a hand to brush against it._

 _"A bike."_

 _"That's a good wish. Let's have some cake and see what happens."_

 _"How long does it take for the wish to be granted?"_

 _"It depends on the wish," May told him, sitting down beside his mother. "Some are easier than others."_

 _"And some require more candles," his mother told him "Wait until the day you have sixteen of them, you're really going to love it."_

 _He didn't understand the look that passed between his mother and father, then, but he saw them smile – and that made him smile, too._

OOOOOOO

"Peter's on the move."

Tony opened his eyes at the gentle announcement, but didn't get up just yet. With his friends at the compound, there was every chance that the kids were out getting a midnight snack – even though a glance at his watch told him it was almost three am.

"Where is he?"

" _Coming through the door, now."_

"Is he _alone_?" Pepper asked, sleepily.

" _Yes. Karen says Ned is asleep."_

Stark started to roll himself out of bed, but the door to their bedroom opened, and Peter was suddenly at the edge of the bed. He wordlessly joined the two of them when they made a space for him between them, and Pepper pulled a blanket over him.

"Sleepwalking?" she whispered to Tony as Peter shivered next to her.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"What's 10 and 7?"

"Baked Alaska."

"Yeah." Tony shook his head, but tucked the blanket around him. "He's sleepwalking."

Peter cuddled against Pepper, his nose pressed against her shoulder.

"It's my _birthday_ , Pepper…" he murmured, softly, closing his eyes and relaxing against her.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, brushing her fingers against his cheek. "Happy birthday."

"I made a wish…" he told her. "But there are a _lot_ of candles…"

She looked over at Tony, who shrugged, silently telling her that he didn't know what that meant, and then he leaned over Peter to press his cheek against the boy's.

"Go to sleep, Peter. You can blow the candles out, later."

A hand reached up to touch his jaw for just the briefest of moments, and then he sighed and settled between them. Tony smiled at Pepper, and kissed her.

"I wonder what he wished for…"

"You're not buying him a pony."

"But I owe him one, remember?"

"Tony. No."

Bah.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter woke early, and immediately knew that he wasn't in his bed. Either that, or his bed was much more populated than it had been when he'd gone to sleep – and no one ever joined him in his bed at night. He opened his eyes and found that both Tony and Pepper were awake, but probably not for long, and neither seemed to be in much of a hurry to get out of bed. They were sitting up, propped by pillows, but he felt Tony's hand on his shoulder, and Pepper's on his back.

Both looked down at him when he stirred.

"Good morning," Pepper said, setting her tablet to the side and smiling down at him.

"I was sleepwalking?"

"You came _here_ ," Tony confirmed. "We didn't have to go fish you out of the river or track you through the forest. It's okay."

"I was hoping I'd be over it by now."

"You're doing better," Pepper pointed out. "It was your birthday, though, and you aren't where you were expecting to be on your birthday, don't forget. We probably shouldn't be too surprised that you didn't stay in bed."

"I didn't hurt anyone, though?"

"Nope. You went from your bed to us. No worries."

Peter sighed and shook his head.

"I'm going to go to my room. Sorry."

Pepper ran her fingers through his hair.

"There's nothing to be sorry for – you _know_ that. It's still a little early; you might be able to go back to sleep for a while."

He shook his head.

"I'm awake, now. Maybe I'll go work on homework until Ned gets up."

"Don't get started on any video games," Tony said. "I want you guys in the lounge by 8 for breakfast."

"Okay."

"Dressed and ready to go."

"Okay."

"I _mean_ it. Don't let Ned talk you into video games. We'll have to come looking for you and drag you away, and I don't want that."

Peter grinned and crawled out of their bed.

"Okay, _dad_. Geez."

He left, and Pepper smiled.

"He called you _dad_. That's so cute."

Tony shrugged.

"Sarcastically."

"He's a teenager. I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that sarcasm is their default setting."

"Good point."

He'd take it.

OOOOOOOO

Ned was still asleep when Peter returned to his quarters a few minutes later. He went into his bedroom and changed, then sat on the bed and worked on essays with the TV on as background noise until Karen told him that his friend was awake. Then he finished the paragraph he was writing and wandered out into the living room area.

"What time is it?" Ned asked, sleepily, rubbing his face.

"You have a handy Avengers watch," Peter reminded him, sitting down on the arm of the sofa, grinning. "You tell me."

Ned lifted his foot and pushed him off his perch and raised his arm to look at the appropriate wrist. Just because he _had_ the watch, it didn't mean Peter couldn't have just told him. Of course, he hadn't thought about it, but he _probably_ could have asked Karen, too. That would have been pretty cool.

"It's 7:30," Peter told him, picking himself up off the floor. "I'm going to go see if MJ is awake. Meet in the lounge?"

"Yeah."

He debated playing a video game rather than bothering to get changed just then but decided that he shouldn't. It was one thing to make his mom have to constantly tell him to get up and get dressed, but it was another one entirely when it was potentially _Ironman_ doing the nagging. Besides, now he was awake, and excited about the upcoming trip – and the idea of snowmobiling later.

Instead of reaching for the video game controller, he tossed the blankets back and got out of bed.

OOOOOOOO

"Show of hands," Clint said as they stood next to the ramp behind the Quinjet once breakfast was finished and everyone had gathered the things that they'd need on the flight. "Who has flown before?"

Rolling their eyes, amused, every adult raised their hand, as did Peter. Ned and MJ both were the only neophytes and Barton immediately handed them both barf bags.

"You two get to sit by Natasha."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Nat. MY flight, my rules."

Peter grinned at that, and Barton winked at him.

"Are we ready?" Tony asked, walking up and joining them on the jet pad. "Everyone have everything?"

They were all standing at the jet. MJ, Ned, Peter, Steve, Strange, Natasha, Pepper and now Tony. Steve had Jack in his arm, but was going to hand him over to Peter, who was guaranteed not to throw up on the puppy – unlike Ned and MJ, who could make no such promises.

"We're set," Barton told him. "Everyone in the jet, find a spot and buckle up. If you don't understand the harness, don't panic. Steve and Natasha will be going through and helping."

They all boarded, and Peter took Jack from Steve, so Rogers could help MJ secure her safety harness. They were using the drop-down jump seats, which weren't all that comfortable, but were a lot better than standing the entire flight – and definitely beat walking. Strange, Pepper and Tony took one side, while Peter watched Natasha and Steve settle MJ and Ned on the other side. Natasha would end up beside Strange, of course, and Steve was going to sit beside MJ. Peter would start the flight in the jump seat behind the pilot, but if Ned or MJ felt up to it, they could take turns sitting there so they could see the scenery as they flew over the country. If they needed the little brown bags, chances were they would be better off sitting in the back where they couldn't see just how fat they were going.

Both had taken a couple of motion sickness pills – just in case – but they looked a lot more excited than nervous. Which was a good start.

Still in flight attendant mode, Barton leaned against the crate that held all of their supplies and addressed the group – although the talk was mostly for the kids.

"We're going to do a vertical take-off. Which means no runway, and very little bumpiness. We'll be flying at around 50 thousand feet so shouldn't have to deal with much commercial traffic and we're going to be going a lot faster than a normal plane would, so flight time is going to be around 3 hours. Stay buckled unless we tell you it's okay not to be – alright?"

MJ and Ned both nodded.

Fury looked over his shoulder at Peter when the boy sat in the jump seat.

"I'll hold the dog while you buckle in."

"Thanks." Peter buckled himself in, and then took a headset from Clint, who was now finishing the preflight. "Are you coming back with Clint to pick us up?"

Nick shrugged and handed the puppy back to Peter.

"We'll see."

Clint finished warming up the jet engines and then shot them into the sky, far more slowly than he normally would, but still fast enough that it felt like they'd been shot out of a cannon.

Ned immediately threw up and Fury looked over at Peter, again.

"No."


	8. Chapter 8

About half an hour into the flight, Peter felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see that Tony had gotten out of his seat and walked forward. Of course, he wasn't capable of sitting still at the best of time, being filled with energy that usually was focused on his work but in the last year or so had been transferred to Pepper and – more recently – Peter, as well.

"How's he doing?" Clint asked, noticing Stark as well.

They couldn't miss Ned's misery in the confines of the Quinjet's fuselage.

"He's pretty miserable," Tony said, reaching down and rubbing his fingers along Jack's ears. The puppy was mostly asleep, having absolutely no problem with air travel, apparently. The same couldn't be said for Ned. "He keeps telling us to just let him die, and that he would have liked to have seen Montana – whatever that means."

Peter smiled.

"It's a line from The Hunt for Red October. One of the submariners was going to defect from Russia, move to Montana and raise rabbits for his wife to cook for him. He got killed saving the captain, and that was the death scene."

Tony never stopped being amazed that Peter was such a movie buff, and it amused him that even as miserable as he was, Ned was showing that side of his nature as well.

"Be that as it may," he said. "Maybe we can pick up the speed and get him off the plane a little sooner?"

Barton shrugged.

"I can do that. It'll get a little bumpier, though."

"He's not going to feel any worse," Stark assured him. "Go ahead."

The boy had tossed up everything he'd eaten that morning – and probably the last week or so, as well.

"Alright."

There was a noticeable surge of power as the jet responded to Clint's commands, and Peter looked up at Tony.

"Do you need me back there?"

"No. Stay here and keep hold of Jack. Pepper and Stephen can take care of Ned – but the last thing they need is a rambunctious puppy underfoot."

"Okay."

Tony walked back to the others and smiled at the sight of Pepper sitting beside Ned, who was buckled in his seat, bent over with his head between his knees a barf bag at the ready – although all that he was managing now were dry heaves. Strange had taken the other side of the boy, but there wasn't much he could do aside from provide a little support and offer the occasional sip of water in between heaving to keep Ned from getting too dehydrated.

He wasn't the only one to get sick. MJ had been okay until Ned started throwing up and then she'd lost her breakfast as well. But she wasn't suffering like Ned was, and Steve was doing his best to keep her distracted and avoid a repeat.

Tony went over to sit beside Pepper.

"We're going to cut the flight time," he told them. "Barton's speeding things up a little."

"Sorry, Mr. Stark," Ned said, weakly, not lifting his head.

"Don't be," Tony said. "It's not like you're doing it on purpose."

Obviously.

They felt the thrum of the jet's powerful engines increase and liked Barton had warned, the flight did get a little bumpier. A moment later, Clint came into the back, having given the controls over to Nick.

"I think a change of plans might be in order," Barton said, looking at Ned, but talking to Stark. "Why don't we drop you guys, first, and then I'll drop the crate after? That way we can get Ned onto stable ground a little sooner."

Stark looked at Steve, who nodded. He didn't have a problem with that plan. And besides, everyone knew a plan would almost certainly change as soon as it had been made.

"Sounds good. I'll call and make sure the snowmobile guy knows that we're going to be early. That way we're not standing in the snow waiting for them to get there."

"Good." Clint patted Ned on the back, feeling for him but still confused how anyone could have such a violent reaction to something that came so easily to him. "Hang in there, Ned."

"Thanks, Clint."

OOOOOOOOO

There wasn't a threat of waiting in the snow.

Only an hour later, the jet landed in a meadow that had an orange flag off to one side that proved it was used as an airfield. Not at the moment, though, since there were several feet of snow covering the ground and short of a Quinjet, or a plane with skis, nothing was going to be using the field until the spring thaw. Off to the west of the field was a small building that was obviously used as a terminal, of sorts, and Clint landed the jet as close to it as he could without blowing too much snow around. Next to the building were several snowmobiles, and two people who were bundled in snow gear walked out of the building as the jet settled.

"We're here," Tony said, unnecessarily, as Steve got up and hit the switch that lowered the ramp as soon as the engines turned off. "I'll be right back."

"Can we go outside?" Peter asked, walking into the back with Jack in his arms, still.

"Yeah. Just don't wander off."

"And watch out for bears," Natasha told him with a smile.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, too, as he handed Jack to Steve, who crooned to the puppy as if he hadn't seen him for days instead of a couple of hours.

"I'll be okay."

"And moose," Strange added.

Peter pulled on his new coat and zipped it up against the rush of cold air that had accompanied the lowering of the ramp and waited for MJ to join him before walking down the ramp.

"Why did she say that about bears?" MJ asked, looking around as they watched Tony shake hands with the two strangers and gesture to the jet. "I thought they were all hibernating by now."

"She's just teasing me," Peter told her. "I read that they should be getting ready for hibernation, too."

He had assumed she knew about him being attacked by the bear during his first try at camping, but Ned must not have mentioned it. _He_ hadn't told her, simply because it wasn't something that would really come up in a normal day's conversation.

The snow was up to his knees and he leaned down and scooped some up, making a snowball almost automatically, and looking around for someone to throw it at. He ducked as one came sailing at him from behind – warned by an inner alert – and turned to fling the snowball at Clint, who hadn't hesitated to start a snowball fight with Peter. Barton dodge Peter's throw, and tossed another, which Peter dodged just as easily as he had the first. It wasn't long before the snowballs were coming fast and furiously between the two of them, being thrown as quickly as they could be formed, although none were hitting their target.

Finally Hawkeye gave up and rushed Peter, tackling him into a snow drift and wrestling him down in a flurry of snow and limbs.

"That didn't take long," Strange said as he walked over to stand by Natasha, who was watching Peter and Clint, and was debating whether to break it up or join in.

She smiled, and shivered in her new coat, which was down filled and poofy, but not warm, yet.

"How's Ned?"

"Pepper took him into the terminal so he can sit down for a while, but he's fine. It's just motion sickness, he'll feel better in a little while."

"Too bad you couldn't just jump him here," she said. "It would have been easier on him, poor baby."

"I can't jump where I haven't been," he reminded her. "Besides, that would be a little difficult to explain."

He nodded his head toward MJ, who was also watching Peter and Barton wrestling in the snow. Clint had the boy on his back, now and was trying to stuff snow under his coat. Peter wasn't about to allow that if he could avoid it, and Barton ended up tossed into a snowbank of his own, with Peter pressing his attack and diving onto him with a handful of snow at the ready.

"Good point."

" _Peter!"_

The boy looked up at Stark's call, and Strange, Natasha and MJ all looked over as well.

"Yeah?"

Stark waved him over, and Peter got up, offering Barton a hand up. Both were covered in snow and red-faced from the cold and the exercise, and they gathered MJ and Natasha and Strange as they walked over to see what Tony wanted.

Stark was standing beside the two figures who had come out to meet them, and now Peter could see that one was a woman and one a man. Both looked quite at home in the cold and the snow and were introduced to the group as Polly and Jim.

"We're going to give Ned a chance to get his equilibrium back, but we'll be heading out in about fifteen minutes. Since I know you don't know how to drive a snowmobile, it might not be a bad idea for you guys to have a quick lesson. They're pretty forgiving but safety first, and all that."

"Yeah."

Peter and MJ both agreed to that.

"Stephen? Do you know how to drive a snowmobile?"

"I'm a brain surgeon, Tony," Strange reminded him. "How hard can it be?"

Stark rolled his eyes and turned to Jim.

"Give _him_ a quick lesson, too, will you? It seems like every time someone asks that question the universe goes out of its way to answer it."

Natasha grinned, but had to admit that he was right.


	9. Chapter 9

Strange was correct. It wasn't that hard to drive a snowmobile.

By the time that Ned was feeling well enough to stand on his own two feet and bundle up and go out into the fresh Montana air, Peter, MJ and Stephen had all made multiple tracks in the virgin snow of the meadow, racing around on the snowmobiles with increasing confidence. Ned joined them, and Polly took him out and taught him how to drive one, too, and by the time he was adept enough to feel confident, he was also feeling much better and was close to his usual cheerful self.

Clint waited to make sure that he wasn't needed, and then he closed up the Quinjet and he and Nick left, snow swirling around the jet as it took off.

The rest of them gathered in the 'terminal' for a minute before they headed for the cabin to get last minute instructions and to decide who was riding with whom on the way – and for a safety lesson while they were in the wilderness – although the cabin was hardly defined as roughing it. Jim took control of the impromptu meeting, with Tony standing beside him to make sure the kids understood that this was important information.

"So, we'll stick together," Jim told them. He was a grizzled fellow, tanned and wrinkled but with no sign of softness in his lean frame. "We had some heavy snow the last few days, which will make for a good time this weekend. But it will also make it a bit more precarious when we're going up any hills – which we will be. Try to stay in the tracks ahead of you so we don't cut any new snow that we don't need to cut. You guys will be fine."

"Tell them about the wildlife," Tony said.

Jim nodded.

"The snow will probably bring some wildlife down from the upper meadows, so you should get a chance to see plenty of them this weekend. Don't try to get close to them, okay? The elk and deer probably won't let you, anyway, but the bison you might see _aren't_ afraid of people, and they're fairly ornery and a lot faster than they look. Enjoy them from a distance."

"Are we going to see wolves?" Ned asked, excited.

"They're out there, but they're shy. If they see you first, they'll keep clear. Mountain lions, too. The bears are usually in their dens by now, but there is always a chance of the occasional straggler, so just watch out for them, okay?"

Natasha had elbowed Peter playfully when Jim mentioned bears, and he rolled his eyes, rubbing his side almost automatically, even though the scars on his side were barely a few white lines along his ribcage by now.

"Just keep an eye out and you will all be fine."

"Any questions?" Tony asked, looking at the kids.

He was well aware that the adults would be careful and were smart enough to make sure they didn't get eaten by something. The kids, on the other hand, needed to be reminded that they weren't in the city, and the dangers out here were a lot different. Peter had gotten a taste of that when they'd gone camping earlier that year, but it never hurt to be recapped. He wanted them to have fun but wanted to make sure he brought all three of them home, too.

The three teens all shook their heads, and he smiled at their excited expressions. _He_ was excited, too. It was going to be great.

Pepper had a bag of digital cameras in her possession and before they all bundled into snow boots, gloves, coats and hats, she handed each of them a camera and told them she expected pictures of everything – even if it seemed too mundane to be interesting.

There were eight snowmobiles. Polly had one and was going to lead them to their cabin. Jim had one and was going to take the rear of their little cavalcade to make sure there weren't any stragglers. Pepper took the controls of one, with Tony riding pillion behind her. Natasha and Strange took one, with Natasha relinquishing the controls over to Stephen, who tried to hide it, but was eager to give snowmobiling a try. Steve, MJ, Peter and Ned all had their own machines, but they were also carrying the travel bags for the group. All the items that Clint and Fury weren't delivering in the crate.

When everyone was ready, they headed out.

OOOOOOO

There was something to be said for careful planning, Tony decided, as he snuggled right up against Pepper's back, his arms wrapped around her as she drove them along the tracks left by Polly's snowmobile. A glance behind him showed that the others were all doing exactly what they'd been told, following the tracks. He knew Peter was directly behind them – he couldn't see his face because of the helmet he was wearing, but he recognized the coat the boy had picked out – and the other kids were lined up behind him, with Natasha and Stephen after them, Steve (with Jack snuggled warmly under his coat) and finally Jim bringing up the rear.

The ride was exciting enough for them without being dangerous, and he was feeling pretty impressed with himself – even though Pepper had really done all the work getting things organized. It wasn't the first time he'd taken credit for something she accomplished, he knew, and probably wouldn't be the last., if he was honest with himself. Which he was – _sometimes_.

As they passed through a heavy stand of tall evergreens, steadily climbing higher, Polly suddenly raised her arm and slowed gradually to a stop with the others stopping as well. She gestured toward a small opening in the trees and it actually took Stark a moment to realize what he was looking at. In amongst the trees was a small group of bison. Impossibly large and imposing, Tony wasn't the only one to stare at them. He looked back and saw Ned gesturing excitedly, even though he wasn't saying anything.

Polly allowed them a few minutes to look, and then started out again and the others followed dutifully. Aside from the bison, they didn't see any large wildlife the rest of the way into the cabin – and really, they didn't see all that many little creatures, either. They would be told later that many of the smaller creatures were burrowed in dens or holes of their own, warm and comfortable and waiting for a change in the weather.

Twenty minutes later, they came up to a final clearing, dominated by the cabin that they were going to be staying in that weekend and Polly stopped her snowmobile out in front at the bottom of a retaining wall that was obviously a parking lot in the summer, but at the moment wasn't being used for any vehicles. Instead, there was the metal crate that held all of their supplies, the snow in that area blown almost clear by the jet's engines being so close. The others all came to a stop as well, parking the snowmobiles in a neat line without actually planning on it.

Ned pulled his helmet off, staring at the place, clearly impressed.

"Wow."

Tony had to admit that he was impressed, too. The pictures didn't do the place justice.

The place was huge. Buried under a layer of snow that gleamed in the late morning sun, there was a small staircase leading up to a huge porch that dominated the front of the house. The roof was slanted, and a huge chimney rose from it. There wasn't any smoke coming from it, but the place didn't require a fireplace for heat – only to provide ambiance. There was electricity and every room had its own thermostat, Tony knew. The porch seemed to wrap around the entire house, and the view of the mountains and the trees was incredible no matter which side of the house they were standing at.

"We checked the house this morning," Jim told Stark. "Everything's in order. We'll be back to guide you guys out Monday morning."

"Thank you."

"Have fun."

Polly and Jim left then, then, and they all gathered near the crate. Steve had taken Jack from under his coat, but was still holding the puppy firmly in his arms.

"How do you want to do this, Pepper?" Tony asked, aware that she was much better at organizing than he was.

"Let's go inside, choose our rooms and then unpack everything once we know where it's going. Then we can make some lunch and start looking around."

He nodded and looked at the others.

"You heard the woman. Let's check the place out. Find the room that suits you – but Pepper and I have dibs on the master suite."

They had set the whole thing up, after all. Fair was fair.


	10. Chapter 10

"Wow…"

The place was beautiful. The front door opened into a small foyer, which from the looks of all the hooks was designed to hold coats and boots and other outerwear to avoid allowing snow, mud and water to be tracked into the rest of the house. They all hung up their coats and went into the huge living room, looking around with interest at the place that they would be living the next few days.

The living room was warmly decorated. There was a large sectional sofa, a couple of recliners and two oversized beanbag chairs all centered around a massive fireplace with a large flat screen TV installed on the wall above it. Off the living room was a dining room with a large but not pompous table that would fit all of them easily, and beyond that was a kitchen with a center island similar to the one in the sanctum, complete with a few bar stools tucked up against it.

"Very _nice_ , Tony," Strange said, looking around, clearly impressed. "I was worried that you'd lost your mind for a while there. This isn't too bad at all."

"Thanks," Stark said. "I _think_."

He watched as the others looked around for a minute, and Steve put Jack on the floor, allowing the puppy a chance to familiarize himself with the area as well.

"Bedrooms are all upstairs," Pepper told them.

There were enough rooms that anyone who wanted their own could. The rooms were similar – the only difference being the view from the windows – and they all had soon chosen a room and dropped their bags on their respective beds. Peter, Ned, MJ and Steve all had their own rooms, while Natasha and Strange were sharing one, and Tony and Pepper had the master suite which was the only room on the downstairs level, right off the living room.

Once they were set, they locked an indignant Jack into the downstairs bathroom to keep him from being underfoot and then unloaded the crate in the front of the house. Food went into the pantry, or into the fridge, the bags went into the bedrooms, the outdoor items (skis, sleds and the innertubes) all were put on the porch for the time being. Then the puppy was released and brought into the living room once more.

"Are we ready for some lunch?" Pepper asked, certain that Ned, at least, had to be hungry after being so sick on the flight.

The others agreed, and Stephen and Pepper shooed everyone else out, telling them that they would call them when lunch was ready. Natasha could cook, and Steve was capable enough to make a passable meal, but Pepper had learned to cook when she was young, and Stephen and Wong always cooked for themselves, so they were the two who planned on being the actual cooks when it came to more than just cereal.

"We're going to go look around outside," Peter told Tony as Stark settled himself in one of the recliners and watched Steve starting a fire in the fireplace. "Okay?"

"Sure. Just stay close."

"Yeah."

"Can we take Jack outside Steve?" MJ asked, looking at the puppy, who was sniffing one of the beanbag chairs.

"Of course." Steve pointed at the leash and harness that he'd set on the coffee table. "Put him in his harness, though, please. We don't want to have to go looking for him if he takes off."

Not that it was likely, but Jack was young enough to still be unpredictable and Steve knew it.

She cooed the puppy while Ned struggled to get his squirming little body into the harness – getting it on right after the third try – and then the three headed outside with MJ holding the end of Jack's leash.

"This place is really pretty," Ned said, putting his gloved hands on the rail of the porch and looking out over the back.

The house was situated at the foot of a hill that led up to a mountain that was covered in trees. The area closest to the cabin was well groomed and the hill had all kinds of potential for sledding. The trees on either side of the hill were all evergreens but at the front of the house there were other kinds – some still sporting brightly colored leaves that hadn't yet been shed before the snow had begun to fall.

"Yeah, it is," MJ agreed. "I have to admit, I was skeptical about the whole Montana thing, but it should be fun."

He smiled.

"Yeah. Come on."

He led them down the stairs and out into the snow, mindful that Jack wasn't really tall enough to see over the deep snow they were suddenly trudging through. MJ walked in Peter's footsteps and broke a trail for the puppy and they explored almost to the trees on the left side of what they were already thinking of as the sledding hill.

"We should try out the sleds," Ned said. "You know, quality control to make sure they work."

Peter grinned at that, but he really didn't see any harm in it, and he was excited to try it, too.

"I'll go get a couple of them," he offered. "Start up the hill, I'll catch up."

"Okay."

They parted ways, but not for long. Peter trotted as well as he could through the snow while MJ and Ned headed up the hill with Jack. Peter joined them just as they reached the crest of the hill, which was a lot higher than it looked from below. Then they stood at the top, looking down while catching their breath from the walk. None of them had actually sledded before, but they all knew the general idea. Hop on the sled and let gravity do its work.

Peter had only brought two sleds, but they were big ones, designed for two people on each.

"I'll take Jack," he said, figuring that there was probably safety in numbers when it came to sledding, and Ned and MJ could go together. "You guys can decide who sits in the front."

Peter set his sled down and got on it, but kept his feet out to keep from sliding before he was ready. MJ handed Jack over, and Peter put the puppy between his knees where he could keep him secure and hold him tightly. Ned and MJ played rock, paper, scissors but Peter wasn't sure which position was the desired one, and watched as Ned took the front of the sled, tucking his feet inside, while MJ got on behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.

Ned looked over at him.

"Ready?"

They grinned, excitedly, at the same time.

"Yeah."

They pushed off at the same time, side by side, and almost immediately were going incredibly fast down the hill, snow flying into their faces and in all directions as they went. MJ squealed, ducking her head against Ned's back to avoid being whitewashed but Peter, Ned and even Jack were blanketed by the time they reached the bottom and slowed down.

"That was fracking awesome!" Ned said, jumping up excitedly when they came to a stop and pulling MJ to her feet as well. "Oh my God, Peter, did you see how fast we went?"

"Yeah." He grinned and got up, too, holding Jack in one arm and trying to brush some of the snow off the lab's furry body.

Jack didn't look quite as impressed as his three companions did.

" _Peter,"_ It was Tony's voice coming over his watch. _"Come in, guys, lunch is ready."_

Peter told the others, and he handed Jack over to Ned to free his hands to reply.

"We'll be right there."

OOOOOOO

Lunch was a simple affair. A huge pot of beef stew (heated from a few cans and certainly not from scratch) bread rolls fresh from the oven and a simple tray of sliced vegetables were on the table when the teens entered the dining room after shedding coats and boots.

"You guys are _soaked_ ," Pepper noted, looking up from her seat as they walked in.

The snow that had splattered them had melted in their hair and while MJ wasn't too wet, because she'd been shielded by Ned on the ride down the hill, Peter and Ned were very wet, indeed.

"We tried out the sleds," Ned told them, grinning, as he sat down at the table.

The exercise had made him hungry – not to mention being sick earlier.

"How was it?" Steve asked.

"Great."

Peter nodded his agreement, taking a spot beside Tony, who reached out and ruffled his soaking wet hair, affectionately, pleased to see the boy looking so happy.

"Did you find the hill, then?"

"It's right behind the house," Ned answered. "It's _big_ , too. Took forever to climb to the top and next to no time to slide down it."

"We'll have to check it out after lunch," Natasha said, also enjoying the excitement that the kids were exhibiting.

"After someone does the dishes," Stephen said. "We _cooked_ , so we don't want to have to do them."

"I can do the dishes," Peter said.

He'd noticed that there was a dishwasher in the kitchen, so it wasn't going to be anything like washing dishes when they'd gone camping – and even that hadn't been so horrible, really.

"I'll help you," MJ offered. "That way Ned can show everyone the hill."

Pepper smiled.

"That's thoughtful, MJ. Thank you."

Tony looked over at Peter, but he was applying himself to his meal, and didn't look up. Which made Stark smile, too.

"Don't take too long, though," he told them. "There's only so much daylight left, and we'll want to take advantage of it when we can."

Once night fell the kids would be inside. He didn't want to risk anyone wandering off and getting lost. And maybe getting eaten by a moose.


	11. Chapter 11

When lunch was finished everyone took their dishes into the kitchen and stacked them for Peter and MJ and then started bundling up to go outside.

"Why don't you leave Jack with us, Steve?" Peter offered. "He really struggled in the deep snow and he didn't seem to enjoy sledding with us."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not," Peter assured him. "I'll feed him and then bring him out when we come join you. By then the snow should be a little trampled and maybe he can run around a little better."

"Thanks, Peter."

The boy busied himself at the sink, rinsing dishes and then handing them to MJ, who loaded them into the dishwasher. Dressed in a heavy coat with a hood, snow pants, boots and carrying gloves, Tony came into the kitchen as everyone started heading outside.

"You guys okay?"

MJ nodded.

"We're fine, Mr. Stark. Right Peter?"

"Yeah. No, we're good. There aren't that many dishes. It won't take long."

"Come join us when you're done," Stark told them. "It's _your_ trip, remember? You should be outside enjoying it."

"I will. We will."

He slapped Peter's shoulder, winked cheerfully at MJ and then left them to their dishes.

"He's a nice guy, isn't he?" MJ asked.

Peter nodded, and reached for the kettle that the stew had been heated in.

"Yeah."

"Do you like living with him? With _them_?"

"With Tony and Pepper?"

"With Mr. Stark and the _Avengers_ ," she clarified. "Things must seem pretty surreal, surrounded by superheroes all the time."

He smiled, shaking his head.

"It's insane, sometimes," he admitted. "When I step back and look around at where I'm at. Living at a compound, surrounded by people who are wildly talented – either smarter than almost _anyone_ – and there are a lot of scientist there who are pretty brilliant – or people like Tony, Natasha and Steve, who just routinely go out and do amazing things that save the world. And then come home and play cards or Monopoly like it's just another day at the office."

"Which it is," MJ pointed out. "To _them_ , anyway."

"Yeah. That's the crazy part."

"When are you coming back to school?"

"Tuesday, I think." He smiled, trying to act nonchalant. "Missed me?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. Actually, I have. Ned keeps us up to speed on what you're doing, and how you're doing, and we know you're _alive_ , because you send homework in, but it's more entertaining actually having you there."

Peter blushed, looking down at the kettle he was washing to hide it.

"Thanks. It'll be a little weird, getting back in the swing of things at school, but I need to get moving, you know? Can't hide out with the Avenger forever."

She gave him a look that he didn't see, and then took the kettle from him when he handed it to her, loading it into the dishwasher.

"Thanks for inviting me out here."

"You're welcome."

"And thanks for _not_ inviting some of the others."

She didn't mention names, but they all knew who she meant. Peter smiled.

"You're welcome."

They finished the dishes, wiping the counters and the table off with a handy towel, and then started the machine, knowing that they were probably going to need some of those dishes for dinner. The kitchen cupboards were filled with stacks of plates, bowls and glasses – as well as mugs, saucers and pretty much anything a person could think might be needed for a group their size or larger, but they both knew that if not handled quickly a mess could easily become overwhelming.

While MJ found the bag of puppy kibble that Steve had put in the pantry, Peter set up the electronic coffee maker, setting the timer for later that afternoon, guessing how long they would be outside. He figured the adults were probably going to want something hot to drink by the time they were done outside.

"He mixes the dry with some wet food," he told MJ, reaching over her head to pull down a can of moist food, while Jack watched with interest, his tail wagging excitedly.

He knew what that bag meant!

MJ dutifully mixed the two, smiling down at the enthusiastic puppy and baby talking him, asking him who was hungry, and was he going to eat some dinner, too. Peter rolled his eyes, knowing that he, too, was guilty of doing that to Jack, and wondering what it was about puppies that turned an intelligent, articulate person into an idiot.

She set the dish down and the puppy started in on it like it was steak and potatoes, and while he was eating the teens got bundled back up in their coats – this time adding the waterproof snow pants to avoid coming back as soaked as they had the first time. Jack joined them when he was done eating, licking his chops and ready for whatever adventure was next, and they snapped his leash onto his harness and headed out to see how the others were doing.

OOOOOOO

They'd had no trouble finding the hill. And they'd brought all the sleds with them – although Peter noticed that they didn't have the innertubes out, yet. Probably hadn't wanted to take the time to inflate them, yet, he decided. They could do that that evening, so they'd be ready for the next day. The snow was a little beaten down around the hill, so Jack was able to move a little better, and Peter and MJ stopped at the bottom to get an idea of who was where.

It was impossible to tell everyone apart bundled like they were, unless you knew what colored coat each had on. Some were easy, of course. Ned was the one ambling up the hill, a big ball of energy that was shouting excitedly at Steve, who was bigger than the others and wearing a blue coat, with a red and white hat pulled down over his hears. He was standing at the top of the hill, a sled in hand and waiting for Ned, who was almost to the top.

The black coat, a faux lined fur hood with the gray wool hat was Natasha. She was with Strange making their way up the hill as well. The doctor's coat was also black, but somehow even covered with snow – and it _was_ – he still looked elegant and sharp. With his enhanced eyesight, Peter could see he was smiling when he turned his head to help Natasha through a particularly slippery spot of trampled snow.

The red coated person coming down the hill on a sled was Pepper. Her hood was flapping behind her, but her red wool hat was holding her hair in place, and the snow was flying up around her as she hurtled down the hill, obviously enjoying herself and the grip of the person who was sitting behind her, holding onto her for dear life it seemed. Tony was wearing blue, also, and a stocking hat that was the same shade. He'd adamantly refused to get one with a poofy ball on top, despite Pepper's insistence.

Jack barked, excitedly, as the sled came closer, and the puppy charged out to meet them as it came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. He jumped onto Pepper, licking and ready to play whatever game it was that they were offering, and she caught him up cheerfully to protect herself from dogfood breath kisses. She and Tony both smiled when they saw the observers, and staggered to their feet.

"You're _done_? Good."

Peter smiled.

"Looks like you're having fun."

Stark nodded.

"I am."

Pepper had set Jack down on the ground, catching up his leash. She grinned.

"You're done, Cinderellas?"

Peter and MJ both nodded.

"Then help Tony back up the hill. I'll watch Jack while I catch my breath."

Stark didn't even protest. He grabbed a teenager with each hand and pushed them toward the sleds that were sticking out of the snow, waiting to be used.

"Come on, kids."

OOOOOOOO

"I _don't_ think this is what Pepper meant…" MJ said, a few minutes later.

"It's exactly what she _said_ ," Tony told her, reasonably. "You're supposed to _help_ me up the hill."

"She didn't say anything about doing all the work."

"It's _implied_. Now get to pulling Peter. _Mush_."

Stark was sitting on a sled. Lounging back, casually, while Peter held the rope that was attached to the front of it, pulling him up the hill. MJ was carrying the other sled, watching with surprise at how easily Peter was managing the deadweight of the billionaire, even though there was no friction on the snow, of course.

"If you let him go and allowed him to slide backward I'd testify that your grip slipped," MJ told Peter, looking back at Stark, who was reaching out and catching snow during their ascent, making snowballs and lofting them at the two as they made their way up the hill.

"I _heard_ that, young lady," Tony chided, wagging a reproving finger at her. "That is not how one gets invited to pull me up the hill _next_ time…"

She rolled her eyes at that but smiled. She was having a good time, and Peter was right about one thing. It was definitely a different side of the superhero thing. Ironman one day, and the man behind her the next.

She was going to learn a lot this weekend.


	12. Chapter 12

"You _cheated_."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I _saw_ the thruster, Tony. It's pretty hard to hide them, you know."

"You're just upset that you lost, Stephen. It's understandable."

"I didn't lose. You cheated."

"The race was to see who could sled to the bottom of the hill first. I won."

"You know I'm going to retaliate, right?"

"I _do_. And I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

That had been the whole point of cheating in the first place.

It had been a good day.

The group stayed on the hill until it grew too dark to sled safely, and only then did Tony call in the others. Rebelliously, Peter and Strange started up the hill once more and were joined by everyone else – aside from Pepper, who stood next to Stark and watched as they all looped themselves together and made their final slide as a giant grouping, with Jack cuddled in Natasha's arms in the back of the queue.

"They're all going to sleep well tonight," Pepper said, amused.

"So am I," Tony admitted. "I'm too old and too out of shape to do this kind of thing every day."

"Good thing Peter only has a birthday every year."

"Tell me when your birthday comes that we can sit on a beach somewhere."

"Absolutely."

He put an arm around her and they watched as the group of sleds came to a slow stop at the bottom of the hill, very close to where they were standing. The party separated, getting to their feet and shaking snow out of hats, coats and off of gloves.

"Everyone inside," Tony ordered, making a shooing motion with the hand that wasn't holding Pepper. "Don't forget the sleds."

They all picked up a sled and headed back for the cabin, chatting cheerfully. Peter had Jack's leash, and was forced to hang back a little while the puppy marked every three feet of snow as his own. Ahead of him Ned and MJ were laughing, talking to Steve about the last run they'd made and Strange had put his arm around Natasha, quietly walking beside her. Tony and Pepper stopped beside Peter.

"Are you having a good time?"

The boy's grin was answer enough, but he nodded, impulsively hugging Pepper, who hugged him back, smiling.

"It's great. Thanks so much."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she told him, kissing his frozen cheek before letting him go.

"I _helped_ ," Tony pointed out.

Pepper smiled.

"He did 12% of the work."

Peter grinned, knowing now that it was an inside joke, but amused at the way the comment made Tony smile even though he didn't understand the reference.

"Thanks, Tony."

"You're welcome."

" _We're_ having fun, too," Pepper assured him. "It was a good idea."

They walked back to the cabin, and by the time they were inside and had their coats and snow gear off and hung up, Steve had stoked up the fire in the fireplace and Strange had discovered the coffee that Peter had set up to brew before leaving after lunch and was pouring for everyone who wanted some.

"Coffee, Pepper?"

"Yes, please."

"Tony?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

They took mugs from him and went into the living room. Ned had claimed one of the beanbag chairs and had placed it close to the fire, while MJ had the other and was comfortably ensconced in it, holding her hands out toward the fire and rubbing them.

"We'll eat in about an hour," Pepper told them, leaning over the sofa where Tony had planted himself next to Natasha and Steve, and kissing his cheek. "And _you_ get to do dishes. Choose your helper – except for Peter or MJ, since they did lunch dishes."

"Ned."

The boy turned and grinned, excited about being chosen – even for dish duties. It was freaking _Ironman_ , after all.

"Sure. I'll help."

Stephen and Pepper vanished into the kitchen. Peter sat between Tony and Natasha, and she put a companionable arm around him, holding him easily, more than willing to spend a little time with him – even though she was sharing that time with the others, as well. Peter didn't know what Strange and Pepper were making for dinner, but judging from the tingling he was feeling, the doctor was using a lot of magic to help prepare it.

Ned had the remote control to the TV and turned it on, quickly and effortlessly accessing the satellite feed and flipping through the channels, idly. He settled on a nature program about – ironically – Yellowstone and the creatures that could be found there. It was close enough to where they were that it would give them an idea of what creatures they could see, and he set the remote down and leaned back into the beanbag chair, willing to settle in for a while.

Everyone else seemed ready to transition from active to languid, as well, and Peter wasn't the only one to relax in the warmth of the room while the fire's heat seeped into chilled bodies. Natasha was the first to actually fall asleep though, and she ended up leaning against Peter with her head on his shoulder. He rescued her coffee cup before she dropped it, and handed it to Tony, who smiled at the sight of his super spy zonked out.

MJ and Ned both went about the same time – the beanbag chairs were incredibly comfortable and extremely nap worthy. Neither was used to the kind of physical activity that the afternoon had provided, and it showed. Jack was already asleep on Steve's lap and Rogers smiled, too.

"I think we wore them out," he whispered to Peter and Tony, just as Pepper and Stephen rejoined them in the living room.

"It won't hurt to let them sleep," Pepper murmured, softly, leaning over the back of the sofa and kissing Tony. "Dinner won't be ready for a while."

"We brought cards?" Strange asked.

Of course, it didn't matter if they did or not, since he could always get some.

"We did," Tony said, hesitantly, looking at Peter.

They all knew cards wasn't something that he enjoyed playing, since he was so terrible at it. Peter understood the look immediately, though, and shook his head.

"I'm fine sitting here," he told them. "Give me Jack, Steve, and he can sleep with me so you have your hands free."

"You don't mind?" Tony asked.

"No. I'm not going to move, anyway. You guys go ahead."

Not with Natasha leaning on him and looking so comfortable.

Steve got up and carefully transferred his sleeping puppy to Peter's lap and then ruffled his hair, cheerfully.

"I'm going to have to start paying you puppysitting fees," he told the boy as Tony stood up as well, moving carefully to avoid waking Romanoff.

"Fifty dollars an hour," Tony said. "That's what _I'm_ going to start charging you."

"That's a little steep."

"I'm worth it."

Peter smiled.

"He's cute. I'm willing to do it for free."

"You've been outbid, Tony," Steve told him as they all moved to the dining room table.

If Stark answered, Peter didn't hear. He wasn't paying attention to them, now. Instead, he watched the nature show, somewhat, and thought about May, and how much fun she would have had that day with them. He knew she'd been looking forward to his 16th birthday – and now, of course, he knew why – but it made him wonder what he would be doing if things had been different. If she hadn't been taken away from him.

He sighed and shook his head, trying to stop the sorrow before it could engulf him. Instead, he focused on the program on the TV, and watched as a herd of bison powered their way through huge drifts of snow. It reminded him of the ones that they'd seen on the trail on the way to the cabin. He was going to try snowshoeing the next day and hoped that he would see more of them. Then he saw a huge bull chasing down a wolf pack, and almost hoped that he wouldn't.

He fell asleep wondering if a guy on snowshoes could outrun an angry bison.

OOOOOOO

"Do we wake them up, or just put them all to bed?"

Natasha felt a hand brush her cheek and at the same time felt the warm body beside her stir. She opened her eyes in time to see Peter stretching, tiredly, and turned her head to see Stephen leaning over the back of the sofa.

"Dinner's ready."

Pepper was waking Ned and MJ, and both reluctantly got up, a little stiff from being in the same position for the last hour.

"Everyone rested?" Tony asked as they all joined him at the table.

It had been set and a large baking pan with a noodle casserole was the center of the meal, along with fresh bread, steamed vegetables and drinks.

There were varying sounds of agreement, and the meal was a bit quieter than lunch had been as everyone who had been napping allowed themselves a chance to eat and to wake up. Eventually, though, Ned pulled out his camera and took a few pictures of the people around the table eating, then showed Pepper the photos that he had taken during their day. Mostly sledding, pictures of everyone in one position or another. That prompted the others to pull their cameras out, as well, although no one took close to the amount of pictures that Ned had.

When they finished eating, Tony and his kitchen helper started the dishes. Pepper and Natasha cleaned the table for them, bringing the dishes into the kitchen where Ned was rinsing them off and handing them to Tony. MJ went outside with Steve to take Jack out for a final time before the puppy was in for the night, and Peter sat at the table, watching Natasha and Pepper as they came and went, once more thinking about May and how much fun she'd be having with them.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Strange asked him, sitting in the chair beside him, and slapping his back, casually.

Peter looked over and nodded.

"It was good. Thanks."

"I cheated a little," the doctor admitted. "We forgot mushrooms."

"I know," he said, smiling. "I could feel it."

"Don't tell anyone. I have to protect my culinary reputation."

"Okay."

Strange slid his finger along the table, tracing a random design in a small puddle of water that had been left from a glass.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, easily recognizing that the boy had been brooding.

It was one of the reasons that he'd sat down beside him.

"May."

"Good thoughts or bad?"

"Good." He shrugged, and looked over at him. "I was thinking that she would have had a lot of fun today."

Strange nodded.

"She would have had fun no matter what she was doing – as long as she was doing it with you. You know that, though."

Peter smiled, aware of the truth in that statement. Of course, he felt the same way when it came to the people that were with him on this trip, too. They could have all been sitting in the living room asleep and he would have been enjoying the day, because he was with them.

"I know. Did _you_ have fun today?"

"Absolutely. I haven't laughed so much in a long time. Thanks for inviting me."

"Thanks for coming."

He slapped the boy's shoulder, again, ready to lighten the mood.

"Let's go bother Tony."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: sorry about the delay. Work schedule is wonky right now!_

Despite the assistance from Peter and Stephen hanging out in the kitchen tossing wet, wadded up paper towels at Ned and Tony, the dishes eventually were finished and washing in the dishwasher. The counters were cleaned off and ready for the next day. They ignored the interlopers while they were working, intent on getting the dishes done, but as soon as they were done Tony hung a dishtowel over the handle of the huge range and grabbed an unsuspecting Peter, picking him up and draping him over his shoulder in a fireman's carrying, surprising the boy by how easily he did it. Stark was stronger than he looked.

Of course it didn't hurt that Peter was on the scrawny side.

The others were sitting at the table, where they were teaching MJ how to play cribbage, and they all looked up when the two entered the dining room, Peter slung over Tony's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"What did he do?" Pepper asked, the corner of her mouth turned up in a partial smile.

"He's spending too much time with a certain brain surgeon and is about to be dumped into a snow bank," Tony replied. "Stephen is teaching him all kinds of bad habits."

"Pepper, help me," Peter pleaded, twisting in Stark's grip just enough to look at her, his face a bit red from being upside down. "I was helping in the kitchen and look what it got me…"

"He was throwing wet paper towels at us."

"So you could use them to wipe off the counter."

"Tony, put him down."

"I'm going to. In a _snowbank_."

Peter wriggled, just a little, fairly certain he wasn't in too much danger of actually going outside without a coat on and being dumped into the snow, but aware that Tony was _almost_ erratic enough to maybe do just that.

"Don't drop him."

"I'm going to. Right into a snowbank. Unless he says he's sorry."

"For _helping_?" Peter protested.

"For being annoying."

"Then you'd have to toss _yourself_ into that same snowbank," Stephen pointed out, sitting in the chair beside Natasha. "He used to be a nice, _sensible_ boy until you got hold of him. I'd say you're an influence on him."

Tony rolled his eyes and ignored that, turning and walking toward the door.

"Apologize."

Peter struggled – not as much as he could, though. He didn't want to hurt Tony, of course, and he didn't want to make him lose his grip and drop him on his head, either.

"No."

"Ned, get the door."

"You _wouldn't_!"

"Apologize."

Ned trotted past them and over to the door, his hand on the knob, grinning.

"No."

Tony made a gesture to Ned, and the boy shrugged and opened the door as Tony walked through the little room that held all their coats and boot. Peter didn't have any of that. Just jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. The cold rushed into the room, making them all shiver.

"Last chance."

"No."

Peter could be stubborn when he wanted to be, and he was still fairly sure that it was an empty threat. A _good_ one, but not feasible. Then he felt Tony shift under him as they walked out onto the porch and the Ironman suit activated just as Stark lifted him up over his head and tossed him over the railing of the porch.

Peter landed in a bank of soft snow, unhurt and shocked. Both from the sudden cold and from the realization that he'd just been tossed into a snowbank. He looked up in time to see Ned lean over the rail that protected the porch and deck and snap a couple of pictures, and Tony watching him, the Ironman suit gone, now and just Stark standing there.

"Next time you'll be _naked_ ," he promised as he vanished from the railing, taking Ned with him.

Peter grinned and struggled his way out of the snowbank, feeling a ton of the stuff getting under his shirt and into his pants.

OOOOOOOOO

Pepper frowned when Tony and Ned returned alone.

"You didn't really dump him in a snowbank…"

"He _did_ ," Ned said, excited. "Turned Ironman and tossed him over the rail like a sack of rice."

"Tony…"

Pepper was instantly in mother mode, but Stark shook his head.

"I made sure it was only snow before I threw him." Which was why he'd gone Ironman in the first place, He didn't need the suit on to throw a skinny kid like Peter around, after all. "He'll be in in a minute."

"He needed the diversion," Strange told Pepper. "He's missing May."

She understood immediately – as did the others around the table.

"Oh. You're sure it was only snow?"

"Yep. Show her the pictures, Ned."

They heard the front door opening as Ned showed Pepper the twenty photos he'd snapped, courtesy of the new camera she'd armed him with. Peter being carried across the deck, Tony's suit engaging, Ironman tossing him over the railing, and finally a surprised looking Peter looking up at him from a snowbank.

She looked up when Peter crossed the living room, looking like a half melted snowman with all the snow in his hair, and she was the first to hold a hand up to stop him from joining them – especially since she saw that one hand was behind his back and there was almost certainly a snowball in that hand.

"No," she told him, smiling and amused by the devious expression on his normally innocent face. "Go to the fire and warm up – and dry off. Then you can join us."

She didn't want a snowball fight at the dining room table. She was dry and wanted to stay that way.

Tony smirked at the boy, and then goaded him just a little by leaning over and kissing her as Peter obeyed and walked across the room to stand on the other side of the sofa. Then he sat down to watch their card game.

" _Thank you_ , dear."

A moment later a snowball hit him in the back of the head, splattering wetly and startling all of them except Romanoff. There was nothing wrong with Peter's aim, and Tony knew it. He closed his eyes, feeling melting snow dribbling down the back of his shirt. Pepper looked over at Peter, who held up two empty hands and had his best innocent look on his face, even though she was too far away to see it.

Natasha smiled. Never turn your back on a ninja. Stark should have remembered that.

OOOOOOOOO

They split up a little for their evening activities. MJ played cards with the others, excited about playing anything with Captain America, Black Widow and Ironman, but trying to hide it. It was a surreal way to end a day that had begun at the Avenger compound and continued with a ride in a super sonic jet and then an afternoon of sledding with the same group of people who were now gathered around the table going out of their way to make her feel included by teasing her and joking with her.

She was glad that Ned was still taking pictures of the evening, because no one would believe it otherwise. _She_ hardly believed it.

Peter and Ned were at the table, as well. Once Peter had dried out from his snowbank adventure, he and Ned had declined inclusion in the 6-person Pinochle game and had pulled out a chess board that they'd found in a closet right off from the living room. There was a plethora of games of all kinds, and plenty of other things to do in case any group staying at the cabin was snowed in by one of the sudden storms that frequented the mountains that time of year.

"Careful, Ned," Tony warned him. "He'll hustle you."

"I'm better at chess than he is," Ned told him, confidently.

Then he proved it, although the game lasted a long time and there were only a few pieces left on either side. They put the chess set aside when they were done in favor of Yahtzee, which they played until the card players finally declared a winner.

"I'm going to bed," Tony said, stretching – and ignoring the way Natasha was preening since she had been the winner of the card game. He looked at the kids. "Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"I'm beat," Ned admitted, gathering up the dice and scorecards from their game. "I'm going to go to bed, too."

That was pretty much the end of the evening. It wasn't extremely late, but it had been a busy day – and an _active_ one – and they were all tired, despite the naps some of them had had before dinner. Everyone said goodnight and left, putting the gate in front of the fireplace – just for safety – and then headed for their rooms.

The next day was probably going to be even more active, after all.


	14. Chapter 14

_"I had a pretty good party planned out, you know?"_

 _"Strippers? Beer?"_

 _A smile and a laugh._

 _"Nothing like that."_

 _"Then what?"_

 _"Pony rides and clowns."_

 _"I'm too old for that."_

 _"And too young for strippers and beer."_

 _"Then what?"_

 _"I would have liked to see you get your license. I know just the car you can drive once you do…"_

 _"I got it. And the car."_

 _"I'll miss the look on your face when you see the car."_

 _"I don't need anything. I have everything I need."_

 _"Everything you want?"_

 _"Everything I need. No one ever has everything that they want. That isn't how life works, or I would still have mom and dad – and you."_

 _"I know."_

 _"Can I get you anything for your birthday? A going away present?"_

 _"No. There's only one thing missing, and I'll never be able to have you back."_

 _"I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart."_

 _"So am I, May."_

 _A smile. A gentle touch. An understanding look._

 _"You're having a good time, though, right?"_

 _"It's great. I love sledding."_

 _"I want you happy."_

 _"I know." He did know. "I_ am _happy."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Prove it."_

OOOOOOO

Stephen Strange felt the woman beside him shift in his embrace and opened his eyes. He frowned when he realized that she was sitting up and reaching for her clothes.

"What's up?" he asked, sleepily.

"I need to go check something. Go back to sleep."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I woke you."

He frowned, realizing she was putting on a sweater. It wasn't cold in the room by any means. All of the rooms had their own thermostats, after all.

"Are you going outside?"

"Yes. Just for a minute."

He sat up, too, and reached for his pants.

"I'll come with you."

Romanoff shook her head.

"It's probably nothing."

"What?"

"I had a dream about Peter."

She stood up, dressed, although not bundled up since the heavy outerwear was hanging by the front door.

"What about him?"

Strange was suddenly dressed.

"I'm not _sure_ ," she admitted. "I think he was sledding…"

Romanoff turned toward the door and Strange joined her, walking down the hallways, silently, and then stopping at the room that Peter had claimed for his own. She opened the door silently. Unlike the quarters at the compound – and in the tower – there were only bedrooms, with just a bed, a nightstand and a dresser. Natasha turned on the light, illuminating the room.

The bed was empty.

"He might be in the kitchen getting a snack," Strange said, even though he was now worried, as well.

"I think he's _outside_."

Romanoff headed for the front door and Stephen followed.

It was dark. There were small lights that illuminated the entire deck and porch, but they were muted, serving only for safety and not really to actually allow people to see much more than just the wood below them to avoid tripping over anything. Natasha shivered, even with her heavy coat on, and they walked down the steps and around to the back of the building, using the path that had been trampled in the snow earlier to help them find their way. Stephen handed her a powerful hand-held flashlight that she knew he hadn't brought from the cabin, and turned on another in his own hand, which made it much easier to find their way in the dark as she led him to the hill behind the cabin.

"He could have gone into Ned's room…"

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'd rather make sure."

They stopped at the bottom of the hill and shined their lights up along the sledding area, looking carefully in the dark. The powerful beams didn't pick up any sign of the boy – although an owl suddenly ghosted by, startled by the sudden appearance. Stephen waved the beam across the surface of the hill and Natasha sighed.

"I guess I was wrong," she said, shrugging. "It was so _real_ , though. A lot like the last time when I found him in the-"

The flashlight in her hand caught a motion and both of them turned their light in the same direction, along the side of the hill, where they'd cut a trail into the snow from multiple trips up the hill that afternoon. Walking up the hill, holding a sled in his left hand and wearing only a pair of sweats was Peter.

" _Jesus_ ," Strange muttered, waving his free hand.

A moment later a portal appeared directly in front of the boy, who stepped through it without noticing. An instant later that portal was gone, and a new one opened right in front of them, and Peter stumbled out, when he suddenly found himself going downhill a moment after going uphill.

Natasha reached out to catch him, but he didn't fall. He had better balance that that – even asleep.

"Peter," Strange said, a blanket suddenly in his hand and draping it over the boy's bare shoulders. "What are you _doing_?"

"Proving to May that I'm happy," he answered, turning back to the hill. "I'll be back in a minute."

"We need to go back to bed," Natasha told him. "It's too cold out here. She wouldn't want you to catch cold. Right?"

"No."

Strange tightened the grip on the blanket and suddenly all three of them were back in their bedroom.

"He's _freezing_ ," Natasha told him, trying to rub Peter's shoulders to warm him, but trying to do it without waking him up.

Peter moved away from her and crawled into the bed, pulling the blankets over himself and closing his eyes. Natasha followed, pulling her boots off, and taking her coat off, but figuring the rest would only help warm him faster. She drew the remaining blankets over the two of them and sidled as close to him as she could get. He rolled against her, tucking his cold nose into her side.

"Do we wake up Pepper and Tony?" Stephen asked, sliding into the bed on the other side of the boy and adding his own body heat to the effort.

"Nothing they can do tonight," she said, shaking her head. "Do you mind him being here?"

"Of course not."

He added another warm blanket that hadn't been in the room and draped it over the boy as well.

"I should have known he was going to do something," she said propping herself against the pillows behind her and getting comfortable. "You warned us that he was missing May. I just thought he'd be too worn out to do anything."

"It probably would have embarrassed him to have brought it up in front of MJ, at any rate," Strange told her. "We'll talk to Tony and Pepper in the morning and see what they think we can do tomorrow night."

"I didn't see the rock, though," Natasha told him, brushing her fingers against the boy's cheek – which was warmer, now, at least. "I guess he's where he wants to be, at least."

"I'm _happy_ ," Peter whispered to her, almost asleep, but replying to the conversation even though he wasn't really part of it. "That's what May wants."

"It's what _we_ want, too, Peter," Strange told him, softly. "Go to sleep."


	15. Chapter 15

"He did _what_?"

"He went sledding. Last night."

"Is he alright? Who-"

"He's fine, Tony."

"Where is he, now?"

"We kept him in bed with us until around 5:30 and then I popped him over to his own, covered him with a couple of warmed blankets and made sure he didn't wake before I left him. When he wakes up – in _his_ bed – he won't have any idea what happened, and we should probably keep it that way."

"Did he say anything?"

"Only that he was happy, and that he had to prove to May that he was."

Stark frowned.

"Why didn't you come get me?"

"Because he wasn't _hurt_. He was pretty cold, but we put him to bed and he warmed up. No harm, no foul as they say."

"I could have done that."

"I like you plenty, Tony," Strange told him. "But not enough to share Natasha's bed with you."

They were the first ones up. Well, technically, Steve had made an appearance to take Jack out, but he'd simply started the fire in the fireplace and had then gone back to bed for a little while longer. It was fairly early, and there wasn't any hurry to start their day, but when he'd smelled coffee brewing, Tony had come looking for it and had found Strange at the dining room table with a mug of coffee in front of him, and half eaten English muffin on a saucer, reading the morning paper.

After pouring himself a cup, Stark had joined him, not bothering to comment on the fact that they almost certainly didn't deliver any New York newspapers out to an isolated cabin in Montana by 6 am Saturday morning.

That was when Stephen had told him what had happened the evening before.

"Natasha had another dream?"

He knew about the first one, of course.

"She woke up knowing exactly where he was."

"That would be the Mind stone at work?"

"That's my guess. I supposed it _could_ be Ms. Maximoff – but if _that_ were the case, I imagine she would target you as to Peter's nocturnal activities – not Natasha."

"Why is the Mind stone telling _her_ and not me?" He sounded almost offended, Strange noticed. " _I'm_ his father. It has to know that. _Peter_ does."

Strange couldn't help but notice how easily that phrase had come out, and he had to hide his smile behind a sip of his coffee before Tony saw it. Instead, he shrugged.

"I wouldn't dream of trying to understand the thing's motivation, Tony. Maybe it recognizes Natasha as Peter's guardian. You're clearly the father to the boy – and Pepper's the mother. But you all know that Natasha would probably wipe out worlds to keep him safe. The Mind stone probably knows that, also."

"So would I."

"No. You're good at the superhero thing," Stephen told him, sincerely. "But you're not the instinctive killer that Natasha is. You _can't_ be. Not without having had the kind of upbringing that she had, and the training. The stone probably recognizes that. Be the _dad_. That's all Peter needs from you."

Stark scowled at that, but could also see the truth in it. He shrugged, deciding that he'd talk to Pepper about the sleepwalking thing to see what she thought they might do that evening, but let the subject drop for now.

"How about you wrangle me up a piece of toast?" he asked, wiggling his fingers, suggestively.

"There's a toaster in the kitchen, you know. We brought plenty of bread."

"Where'd you get your English muffin?"

Strange rolled his eyes, and a plate of toast appeared in front of Stark.

"You're lazy, Tony."

"Yeah. I know."

OOOOOOO

Peter woke in an unfamiliar bed, and for just a moment thought that he must have been sleepwalking. Then he remembered why the bed – and the room – was unfamiliar, and smiled at his automatic assumption, pleased that he had been wrong. He stretched, lazily, and tried to remember when he had decided he needed so many blankets on him and assumed that he must have gotten cold in the middle of the night or something.

His room had a window, and from the bed he could see that the sun was out, and it wasn't _too_ early. Then he realized that he could smell coffee, and pancakes, and his stomach growled, driving him from his bed sooner than he might have if he wasn't so hungry. He pulled on a shirt, and his shoes, and headed for the stairs that led down to the main floor.

All the adults were up, he saw. Steve, Natasha and Tony were all at the table eating breakfast. He glanced into the kitchen as he walked over to the dining room and saw that Strange and Pepper were standing in front of a griddle having a discussion about something that must have been amusing, to judge by the way she was laughing.

"Good morning," Tony said, smiling at him when he noticed his arrival.

"Morning." Peter included everyone in the greeting, with a smile for Natasha, who winked at him. "Where's Jack, Steve?"

"Ned took him outside."

"How do you feel?" Tony asked as he sat down next to him.

"Good. Thanks."

Pepper came into the dining room with a plate piled high with pancakes. She set them in the middle of the table for everyone to help themselves, and hugged Peter from behind, pressing a hand on his forehead.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Great, I think," he told her, leaning back against her and looking up.

"You look sleepy."

"I'm okay."

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

A plate appeared in front of him – not _magically_ , just slid into place when Strange joined them in the dining room as well.

"MJ is the only one still sleeping," Tony said as Peter stabbed a few pancakes onto his plate and reached for the butter. "Once she's awake, we can decide what we want to do this morning – or we all go our own ways and do whatever we want. I know Pepper and Ned both want to try cross country skiing – and I have no interest in that."

"Can we go snowshoeing?" Peter asked.

"Yes. If you want."

They brought 6 pairs, so anyone who wanted to try it could. Even if they had to stagger things out to accommodate everyone.

"I'd like to try it." He looked at Steve and Natasha. "What are you guys going to do?"

"I'm going to do the _dishes_ ," Rogers told him. "After that? Maybe I'll try cross country skiing, too. If I can convince Jack to come."

"I'm going to laze around here this morning," Natasha told him, running a hand absently along her ribs – which were mostly healed, but ached that morning from the cold and the activities of the day before. "Why don't I watch him for you?"

"Stephen?" Stark said, looking at the doctor, who had seated himself at the table. "Come snowshoeing?"

"Are you crazy? That seems like a lot of exercise for very little gain."

"It'll be fun," Peter assured him. "Like hiking. Only in the snow."

"I could laze around here with Natasha," the doctor pointed out. "Keep her company…"

"You should get out and get some fresh air," Natasha told him. "We can laze around together this evening, when it's too dark to be outside."

"You don't want the company?"

She smiled, knowing he was just trying to get out of doing anything active, if he could.

"I'll have Jack. He's good company. Go play with the boys."

Strange rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Fine. But if I get eaten by a moose, I'm going to blame you."

"That is a chance I am willing to take," she assured him, reaching out and patting his hand.


	16. Chapter 16

They didn't see any moose.

After breakfast MJ helped Steve do the dishes, while Tony, Stephen and Peter went out front to the porch and picked out snowshoes to wear. The others came out watch as they practiced walking in the deep snow on the untested side of the building just to make sure they could actually walk any great distance. It took a bit to get the hang of it, but eventually they had it figured out.

"Don't get _lost_ ," Pepper told them.

"If we do, hook a flask to Jack's collar and send him our way," Tony told her.

"Take lots of pictures," Ned called as they turned and headed into the woods away from the hill, and the others went back inside to get ready to go skiing.

Peter waved to show he had heard, and then turned his attention to what he was doing.

When they reached the trees, it was almost like being in a different world. The sunlight filtered down through the evergreens and the only sound that they heard through the muffling effect of all the snow was more snow being shifted from branches around them as the occasional bird or squirrel moved through the trees, following their progress.

Peter was enjoying himself, even though walking in the snowshoes was hard exercise. He had his camera out, taking photos of the two men who were walking ahead of him and what little wildlife they saw.

"Find us some _animals_ to look at, Tony," Strange said to Stark when they stopped for a break. "There must be some around here and that would make for a more interesting photo. No _bears_ , though."

Tony activated his Ironman suit and did a quick scan of the immediate area. A moment later, he was pointing toward the west.

"You guys have a choice. There are a couple of bison a mile or so that way, and there is a herd of deer – Friday said _elk_ – a little way over there. Preference?"

"The elk," Stephen said, looking at Peter to see if he agreed. "We already saw bison."

Besides, _he_ had seen the documentary with the bison taking on a wolfpack, too, and didn't want to get too close to something like that. Not on foot, anyway.

They turned and went toward the elk, moving silently in the snow, the only sound giving them away being the rustling of their coats and snow pants. After almost an hour, they heard an odd sound, like someone slamming sticks together – only really hard. At almost the same time, Peter caught a motion off to the distance and stopped to get a better look. Stark and Stephen stopped as well, and it took them a moment to figure out what they were seeing.

Two large elk were squaring off against each other. Both males, with huge racks of antlers that they were using with serious intent as the two locked their antlers and tried to wrestle the other down. Close by were several does, watching the contest but nibbling on undergrowth and tree bark as well.

"Wow."

Peter wasn't the only one to pull out his camera.

The elk didn't even notice them, it seemed. The males, of course, were too intent on what they were doing to care about anything else, and the others were just trying to stay out of the way of the contest and fill their bellies. As they watched one finally tired out and began to give ground, being pushed by the other buck toward the general direction where Peter and the men were watching. They prudently stepped behind a very large tree – just to be sure – and watched as the exhausted buck was driven away and winner headed back to the waiting herd.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day," Strange said, impressed.

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOO

It was starting to snow by the time they made it back to the house.

Natasha and Jack were outside in the front of the cabin when they returned. Earlier that morning Steve had taken a shovel and had cleared out a large area of ground, piling the snow into steep banks – almost walls – to form an area that would allow Jack to run free off his leash but still make sure he wasn't going to be able to run off if he saw something to chase. That was where they found her when they came tramping around the corner of the house from the same side they'd left.

She pulled her hood back to see them better and moved to the steps of the porch, while Jack came running over once they reached the cleared out area, barking happily.

"Did you guys have a good time?" she asked, knowing the answer before any of them replied.

They looked far too cheerful to have had a bad time.

"It was great," Peter told her, bending down to take off his snowshoes, and trying to dodge Jack's excited licking. "What did _you_ do?"

"Not much," she admitted. "Watched the fire, cuddled the dog, made a snack, took a nap."

"Sounds productive," Strange said, also pulling off his snowshoes. " _I'm_ ready for a nap. _And_ a snack. Tony?"

"Yes. To both. Are the others back, yet?"

"No. But they haven't been gone long." She smirked. "It took them a while to get the hang of the skis. There was a lot of falling."

Stark looked at Peter.

"Are you hungry?"

"No. I'm going to go sledding."

" _Alone_?"

The boy smiled as he recognized the immediate concern.

"It's _sledding_ ," he pointed out. "Not a trip to the moon."

"Smartass. What if you hit a tree?"

"Then I bounce off and get up and go again. I'll be fine."

Stark frowned, but then shrugged.

"Fine. But if something happens and you need me, call. Okay?"

"Yeah."

"And stay on the hill. Don't wander off."

"Okay."

He headed up the steps at a trot before Tony could change his mind for some reason, and this time instead of a sled, he picked up one of the innertubes that had been inflated and were waiting for use. The three adults watched as he hurried off, and Strange shook his head.

"I can't believe he has the energy to climb that hill. I'm beat."

"So am I," Stark agreed, heading for the stairs to the porch. "I need some coffee."

"You're in luck," Natasha told them both, sliding an arm around Stephen as they went up the stairs, too, following Jack who had rushed into the cabin when Tony opened the door. "I just made a fresh pot."

OOOOOOO

The innertube was even more fun than the sleds, Peter soon discovered. Every bump on the hill made the tube bounce under him and it moved even faster than the sleds did, making the ride a little less certain – which added to the fun as far as the boy was concerned. The first time down he was sitting upright, and when he went over a bump, the thing dumped him off the back of the tube. He looked up from the snow just in time to see the innertube heading down the hill without him, but a quick almost unnoticeable web shot caught the thing and halted its descent.

He caught up to it and took it back to the top of the hill for another go, grinning at having been tossed.

By the time the snow was really starting to come down, Peter was getting better at clinging to the innertube. The fresh snow was making the hill slicker than before, increasing his speed as well as the fun. He had graduated to going down on his belly and was at the top of the hill once more when he saw MJ walking toward the hill, with Steve beside her. Neither of them was carrying sleds. He waved at them and took a running leap onto the innertube, sending it down even faster, and grinned when he finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill next to them.

" _That_ looks fun," Steve said.

"Yeah. It's faster than the sleds." He sat up. "How was skiing?"

"It was fun," MJ told him. "We saw some bison, but we didn't get close enough to take any really good pictures – Pepper didn't think it would be a good idea."

"Probably not," he agreed.

"Then it really started snowing, so we figured we'd better get back before Mr. Stark got worried and came out looking for us."

Which Steve and Peter both knew he would.

"Natasha sent us to check on you," Steve told him. "It's past lunch time. Ready to call it for a while?"

"Yeah." He was pretty hungry, by then, and breakfast had been a long time ago. "Thanks."

They walked back to the cabin, with MJ between Peter and Steve and the innertube hanging over Peter's shoulder. He dropped it on the porch when they arrived, and stripped out of his coat, boots and snow pants, not surprised to find that his jeans were soaked as well. There had been a lot of snow flying when he'd been sledding and each time he wiped out he slid one direction or another which had sent snow in places best not mentioned in front of others.

A quick glance into the living room showed that Pepper was sitting on the sofa, drowsing with her head on Tony's shoulder. Stark was asleep, head back and looking comfortable despite being upright Strange was in a recliner, reclined all the way back and also asleep, covered with a light throw blanket. Ned was drowsing in what Peter was beginning to think of as his beanbag chair, and Jack was sprawled in front of the fireplace, soaking up heat and MJ's attention in equal measures.

It was a very cozy scene, and Peter took a couple of pictures before he turned toward the dining room – and Natasha.

Natasha smiled when he walked over, clearly wet and chilled, but looking as though he'd had a great time.

"You're _soaked_."

"I know. I'll go change in a minute."

Her eyes narrowed as she read his expression like an open book – which to her, it _was_.

"Don't you _dare_ hug me, young man."

" _Whaaat_?" he gave her an innocent smile and held his arms out to either side. "Would I do that?"

"You _would_."

Clint had spent plenty of time with him, after all.

He grinned.

"Yeah. Probably."

"Go change and I'll make you some soup and a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Okay."


	17. Chapter 17

By the time he returned, now wearing sweats, thick socks and a sweatshirt, Natasha was the only one of the group still awake. He joined her in the kitchen, watching with interest as she heated a small kettle of tomato soup while watching three sandwiches grilling on the skillet beside the stove.

"Three for me?" he asked, leaning against the island to stay out of her way.

"Two for you. One for _me_ ," she corrected. "Unless you think you can eat three? I could throw another one on."

"I'm pretty hungry," he admitted.

She gestured for him to get the cheese out of the fridge and pulled a couple more slices of bread from the bag near at hand. While she was making the sandwich and getting it ready to grill, Peter stirred their soup.

"Are you having fun?" he asked her.

She nodded, leaning over without using her hands, and kissing his temple.

"Yes. How about you?"

"Yeah. It's selfish, I suppose, but I like having you guys around me."

"It's your birthday," she pointed out. "It's supposed to be about _you_. That's not selfish."

He snorted.

"A five-day birthday extravaganza? It's a little much."

"You know how Tony is. Wait until you see whatever he has planned for _Pepper's_. We'll probably all go to Saturn for a picnic, and then have a cruise on the Nile or something."

Peter smiled at that.

"What do you want to do for _your_ birthday?"

"Exactly what _you're_ doing," Romanoff told him, flipping the now finished sandwiches onto two plates and reaching for bowls for the soup. "Spending it with the people I love."

She poured the soup into two bowls and he carried them out to the dining room table, while she brought the sandwiches. They ate, talking about little things, like what he and Stephen and Tony had seen while out snowshoeing, and then when they were done eating they played chess while the others slept, and the snow fell outside the window.

OOOOOO

Tony was the first to wake. He carefully shifted Pepper's sleeping form to a fat couch cushion and then got up, quietly, stretching and feeling a little sore in leg muscles that had had far more of a workout than he was used to. He looked around, saw that everyone was asleep and smiled. Exciting, it wasn't, but there was no way the others could say it wasn't a relaxing weekend. It had to be something in the air when even _Ned_ was asleep in the middle of the day.

He walked over to the dining room table, putting an arm around Peter from behind and winking a hello to Romanoff as he rested his chin on the top of the boy's head.

"Who's winning?"

Peter's hand came up to touch his forearm where it crossed his chest, but he didn't look up from the board.

"She is."

"Really?"

Natasha pretended to be annoyed.

"Don't look so surprised, Tony. Chess is all about strategy."

"Which Peter is remarkably _good_ at, for someone who doesn't need to shave, yet."

The boy smiled at that and rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny it.

"She's pretty good," he pointed out.

"You're not _letting_ her win, though, right?" Stark asked, kissing the top of Peter's head before letting him go and sitting down beside him. "She gets to be trounced just like I did…"

"No."

"I don't _need_ him to let me win," Natasha said, haughtily. "I can do it all on my own."

She moved her queen and Peter jumped on it, moving the rook that he'd been holding back while they played.

"Checkmate."

She scowled, looking at the board in surprise.

"What?"

Tony smiled.

"That's my boy. Tell me you were betting something?"

"Loser does the dishes."

He frowned, looking at the two bowls, the two spoons and the two plates.

" _I_ lost a Quinjet."

"You're _impetuous_ ," Romanoff told him, getting up with a smile for Peter as she picked up the dishes. "I'm smarter than that."

He shrugged the truth of that and leaned back in his chair, watching as Peter gathered the chess pieces and put the board back in the wooden box it came in.

"Next time hustle her into betting something better. Okay?"

Peter smiled, glancing over into the kitchen and then shaking his head.

"She's good enough that she might win – and I don't have a jet to lose."

OOOOOOOOO

The three of them spent the afternoon playing Scrabble while the others slept. It was peaceful, and a good chance for Stark and Romanoff to reconnect with each other in a quiet setting that didn't have the fate of the world depending on the outcome. Peter was getting tired, but was enjoying himself too much to go take a nap and miss anything and while Tony could see that he was dragging a little, he didn't have a heated seat, or quiet music, or the thrum of car engine to lull the boy to sleep.

When the others started getting up and joining them, they put away the board game and started passing around the cameras, looking at the pictures that each group had taken while out that morning. The snow outside was pretty to look at, but Tony wasn't going to let the teens out in it to go sledding or do anything that wasn't right outside – he didn't want to lose anyone in the dark – so the discussion and descriptions went on until Strange and Pepper started dinner, and then the kids set the table, while Steve and Tony took Jack out to his snow enclosed play area and watched the rambunctious puppy chase falling snowflakes.

"We're not going to get snowed in, right?" Steve asked, looking at the snow falling, reflecting off the lights on the porch.

It had grown dark while the others slept, although it wasn't really that late.

"I doubt it. The weather report didn't mention any blizzards, and I have a feeling it would take something pretty significant to close this place up." Jack finished his play and came over to join them, and Tony reached down and picked the puppy up, cuddling him and rubbing his ears. "There are worse places to be stuck, though, I suppose."

"Would you really want to leave Clint in charge of the compound?"

"There is that."

Of course, Nick was at the facility, so it was in good hands, but yeah, they didn't want to be stranded behind a snowstorm. Not that that could happen with Stephen with them.

OOOOOOO

Dinner was good. Not surprisingly, since Strange used a lot of magic – although Peter and Pepper were the only ones who knew it. Pepper because she was watching in the kitchen and helping when she could, and Peter because he could feel it every time it happened. But their dinner wasn't the only thing the good doctor magicked up that night, because once the meal was eaten and the dishes cleared away, Peter was seated at the head of the table, the lights in the dining room were dimmed and Pepper brought out a magnificent cake, with 16 candles that Tony lit while the boy looked on with a bemused smile on his face.

Natasha handed out party hats; brightly colored and held on with elastic bands under their chins.

"Make a wish," Ned told him before anyone else could.

Peter nodded, even though he knew that wishes didn't depend on candles being blown out to come true. He closed his eyes and it was only a moment before he opened them again and easily blew the candles out.

They sang happy birthday to him, then, and he blushed with pleasure and a little embarrassment at being the center of attention, and then suddenly the table was filled with wrapped gifts as everyone crowded around to set them down in front of him, and Pepper moved the cake so she and Natasha could cut into it once the gifts were unwrapped.

"Which one do I open, first?" he asked, them, pushing the chair aside so he could stand up.

"Mine," Tony told him, pushing two presents wrapped in gold paper with festive party hats on it.

One was little, and one was about the size of a breadbox. Peter unwrapped the bigger one and found a tool kit that was perfect for someone who liked to tinker with electronics. All the finest gadgets complete with a soldering iron and all of them neatly situated in a case that had his initials on it.

"We'll open up a room near my workroom for you to have your own projects," Stark told him, giving him a hug. "That's a starter kit. If we need to add to it, we can."

"Thanks."

Peter opened the little present, then, and smiled when he pulled out a simple keychain. It had a Pontiac logo on one side and a miniaturized photo of Peter's mom and dad and him as a toddler in between them on the other. He looked at the photo, wondering if it was photoshopped, since he hadn't seen it before.

"It's from the stack of pictures that Jack gave us," Pepper explained, before Tony could. "The original is in your room, now, but we didn't want you to see it until you opened Tony's present.

"Wow…"

He was quiet for a moment, but they all understood, and no one was in a hurry to rush him. They had all night, after all. Finally, Peter looked at the keys, realizing something was off. He recognized the ignition key to the car his father had left him, and the trunk key, but there was another on the ring that he'd never seen before.

"What does that one go to?" he asked.

Tony smiled.

"It's a surprise. You'll have to wait until we get back to find out."

The boy shook his head and put the keys in his pocket so he wouldn't lose them. He knew just by the way Tony was watching him that asking what it was wouldn't do him any good. The man loved to surprise him. Then Natasha pushed a present to him.

"Mine, next," she told him with a smile.

It was a 3-D chess set, and Ned gave a squeal of excitement when Peter unwrapped it. Both boys had seen it played and neither had actually played it. Peter passed the box to Ned to examine and hugged Natasha, who kissed him, pleased that he liked the gift.

"Happy birthday, baby," she murmured in his ear.

"Thanks, Natasha."

Their hug was a little longer than his and Tony's, but they were both smiling when they broke apart, and Peter reached for the next. It was Fury's and it wasn't an ice cream bar; it was a wallet. A simple black trifold but Peter smiled when he saw that very subtly there was an Avenger logo stamped into one corner of the leather.

"I told you it wasn't an ice cream bar," Pepper told him as he admired it.

He grinned, and Steve handed him a small box. Peter opened it and grinned when he pulled out a pair of fuzzy dice on a string.

"You hang them from the rearview mirror of the car," he explained. "It makes the car that much more retro."

"Thanks, Steve. It's awesome."

Rogers pulled him into a rough hug, too, thumping him on the back.

"Happy birthday."

Ned pushed his present over, next, and Peter's smile was impressed when he'd opened it. His friend had gotten him a new set of D&D equipment, including a figurine for the character that they'd created to use with the campaigns that Tony had made for them. Definitely something that he needed.

Ned hugged him, too, tousling his hair like he'd seen Tony do so many times.

MJ's present made everyone smile, not just Peter, when he unwrapped it. He laughed and handed the book to Tony, and blushed when he was suddenly being hugged by her.

"Happy birthday, Peter," she told him, stepping back, blushing just a little herself, although it wasn't as easy to see as Peter's.

"Thanks, MJ."

"An _Idiot's Guide to the Avengers_ …?" Tony read, smiling over at Pepper before looking back at MJ. "Where did you find this?"

"Amazon."

"I didn't even know there was such a thing," Stark said, turning the book over, and flipping through it. "I'm going to borrow this, Peter."

"Okay."

He grinned at MJ, who was obviously pleased that her present was so well received. Not just by Peter and Tony, though, because all of them were passing it around.

"Open Clint's," Natasha said, handing a present wrapped in Christmas wrapping over to him.

He found a Robin Hood activity kit. Complete with a miniature bow and a dozen soft foam tipped plastic arrows, a hat, and a few cardboard targets. Peter smiled at that, too.

There were two gifts left on the table, and Peter picked up the closest, which turned out to be from Strange and Wong.

"You guys already gave me a present," Peter reminded the doctor.

Strange shrugged.

"We figured you could use something else."

It turned out to be a case for his phone. Plain black, with an Avenger logo on it, as well, and Peter felt it tingle the moment he touched it – which made him look over at Strange, curiously.

"It has a few features that I'll show you how to use later," Stephen told him, understanding the look. "But it's guaranteed to never be lost, so put your phone in it when you have a chance, alright?"

"Thanks."

Strange hugged him, too, and Peter smiled, feeling the love from so many hugs from all of them. Who needed presents?

He picked up the last present, which was wrapped in red paper with birthday hats on it and was definitely a card of some sort. When he opened it, he found he was right. He pulled the birthday card out, opened it and a certificate fell out of the card and onto the table. Peter picked it up, read it, and then looked at Pepper.

"Cooking lessons?"

She nodded.

"For two. You and Tony are going to learn how to cook. More than macaroni and cheese."

"Tony can't even cook that," Strange told her. "Believe me."

Stark reached over and took the certificate from him, reading it, while Pepper pulled Peter into a hug that lasted a long moment, and like Natasha's, ended with a kiss.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Pepper."

"Did we miss anyone?" Stark asked. "No? Let's have cake and ice cream, then."


	18. Chapter 18

"Well, I'd say that was a success."

Stark nodded, smiling down at the boy who had finally fallen asleep, even though he'd lasted a lot longer than any of them had really expected.

Once the cake and ice cream had been demolished, Peter and Ned had immediately pulled out the 3-D chess set, quickly running through the rules and then testing it out. MJ had joined them, taking a little more care reading the rules of the game, but the adults had all decided that they'd wait until a different time to learn. They'd taken coffee into the living room and simply enjoyed a quiet night of no responsibilities.

By the time Steve decided to take his puppy outside for a final romp and then go to bed, the games were taking a little longer as Ned and Peter grew more proficient at the moves the pieces could make. Natasha and Stephen bundled up in their warm coats and hats and went outside to watch the snow fall while leaning on the railing of the porch.

MJ had played one game against Ned, but had then decided that she was tired, too. She would have plenty more chances to learn how to play, after all. She said happy birthday to Peter once more, told everyone goodnight and then vanished up the staircase.

Ned had taken a little longer, but he was no more used to all the physical activities of the day than the others, and eventually the sleepiness won out of the excitement of the new game. By the time Strange and Natasha returned to the interior of the cabin, chilled and ready for the warmth of the fire, he finished the match he and Peter were playing, and had then gone to bed, as well.

Peter carefully gathered up the pieces to his new chess set and put them away, and had then gone into the living room to sit on the sectional beside Tony, who had coffee in one hand and the other arm around Pepper. She was reading the Avengers book that MJ had given Peter, and would smile every now and then, but refused to tell him what was so funny, saying that she didn't want to spoil the book for when he read it.

Stark put his coffee down and put that arm around Peter, drawing the boy up beside him in a hug that left no doubt how he felt about him. They'd chatted with Natasha and Stephen about inconsequential matters – mainly what they wanted to do the next day – and the quiet conversation had eventually put Peter to sleep. His head started on Tony's shoulder, but he shifted himself in his sleep and ended up on his side, his knees drawn up a little and his head using Stark's leg as a pillow.

"Yeah. And I thought he was crazy when he said Montana."

Natasha smiled at that. She was sure the word was a lot stronger than crazy.

"Do you want me to take him to bed with me?" she offered.

Stark shook his head.

"No, it's okay. We'll watch him tonight. You guys go ahead and go to bed."

"You're sure?" Strange asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

The others said goodnight, and Tony shifted just a little between Pepper and Peter, and turned his head to kiss her, even while resting his hand lightly on Peter's shoulder.

"Do we take him to bed with us and then do what they did and put him into his own before he wakes up in the morning?"

"Yes, but not yet," she said, stretching and then setting the book aside before cuddling up against him. "I'm comfortable."

They had both had a nap that afternoon and neither was necessarily ready for bed. Besides, it was comfortable on the sofa, and the company was good. They sat beside each other, her head on his shoulder, her hand against his chest and his arm keeping her close while they watched the fire crackle in front of them and the snow fall outside the picture window in the dining room.

OOOOOOO

He roused a bit when Tony picked him up to take him to bed much later, gathering him up into his arms, while Pepper put the gate in front of the almost dead fire.

"Hmmm? What…?"

"Shhh… go back to sleep…"

"I'm too old to be carried to bed," Peter mumbled, sleepily.

He didn't open his eyes, though, and his head went to Stark's shoulder, his body limp in Tony's arms.

"I know. If I fall asleep on the couch tomorrow you can carry me to bed, too."

Pepper led the way into the bedroom and pulled the blankets back. Peter wasn't asleep, though. Not completely. As Stark put him into the bed and pulled his shoes off, he reached up and brushed a hand unerringly against his chin without opening his eyes.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I had fun, today."

Stark smiled over at Pepper, who was on the other side of the bed by then, pulling the blankets back.

"Good. Go to sleep, okay?" Stark murmured, softly. "We'll have more fun tomorrow."

"Yeah."

OOOOOOO

 _He_ roused them several hours later. Tony rolled in his sleep, reaching out to rest his hand against Peter and only found the much softer, and more feminine flesh that composed Pepper's hip. He opened his eyes, immediately aware that that wasn't right, and sitting up when he realized that Peter had managed to get out of the bed without waking either of them.

Rather than worry Pepper, he slipped out of the bed as well, wishing that Friday was sourced into the cabin the same way she was in the compound. Then he would be able to tell if the boy was sleepwalking, or just making a late-night trip to the bathroom.

He stopped there, first, just to check, but he wasn't in there. Walking out of the bedroom, trying to keep himself from panicking, he went into the living room, shivering just a little at the difference in the warmth of the bedroom – and bed – and the living room without a fire. The living room was empty but there was a light on in the dining room and another on in the kitchen. Tony frown when he saw a plastic arrow come sailing from somewhere in the kitchen to hit a small cardboard target that was with half a dozen others propped up on the table.

The target and the arrow both went flying, and an instant later another arrow was hitting the target that had been beside the first. Tony leaned against the back of the sofa and watched as six shots from the unseen archer in the kitchen took out the six targets in near silent efficiency. A couple of moments after that, Peter walked out of the kitchen, munching on a banana. He looked over at Stark, but Tony didn't see any surprise in his expression and knew that he had probably felt him there with his spider senses.

"Did I sleepwalk?" Peter asked, picking up arrows and targets.

"Are you sleepwalking, _now_?" Stark asked.

"No." He shrugged and stuffed the rest of the banana into his mouth. "Maybe? Ask me a question."

"Pi?"

"3.14."

"You're not sleepwalking, then." Tony walked over and sat at the dining room table, picking up one of the arrows from the Robin Hood set that Clint had given Peter for his birthday as he did. "You didn't sleepwalk this evening, either. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn't feel like carrying you up the stairs, so we put you in our bed with us – just in case."

Peter looked relieved, but somewhat chagrined.

"A bed for three."

Tony shrugged.

"We don't mind, Peter. You know that. It's better than the alternative possibilities if you _did_ sleepwalk. Bad enough to do it in the city where you might fall off a building or something. Out here you could freeze to death and not even realize it."

"Or get eaten by Dr. Strange's moose…"

"There is that."

He sat down at the table across from Tony, idly playing with the foam tip of one of the arrows.

"Thank you."

"For…?"

Peter shrugged, making a gesture that encompassed the entire room and cabin, and so much more.

"All of this. For taking me in. Caring about me. Making me feel so wanted…"

"You _are_ wanted. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I just can't believe it, sometimes." He smiled. "I don't mean that I doubt _you_. I mean it's just hard to believe where I am right now, as opposed to where I was a year ago – and even before."

"I know what you mean. It's the same for me, you know?"

"Yeah?"

Stark smiled.

"Oh, yeah. For a long time – the _longest_ time – it was just about _me_ , you know. We talked about that."

"Yeah."

"Then it was _Pepper_ – even though I didn't know that we were really a _we_ at the time. I was too much of an ass to see beyond _me_ for there to be anyone else. Suddenly, though, there she was, and she was so amazing, Peter. Strong enough and patient enough to want me when _no one_ should have, believe me."

"You were really that bad?"

"Oh, almost certainly worse, I assure you."

"Oh."

"Then suddenly, here _you_ are." Stark reached out and picked up one of the targets for the Robin Hood game. "Scrawny kid. Annoying teenager with abilities that I never would have imagined could come in so unassuming a package. I liked you right off the bat, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"Yes. We're a lot alike in some ways. Maybe even in a lot of ways."

Which made the boy smile. He thought so, too – although he was thought that it might have been wishful thinking.

"Yeah."

"I've never been _needed_ , before," he told Peter. "Then you got so sick. God, I was afraid of losing you. It was a near thing, too, and you know it. But I realized that in a way, you needed me. You needed Stephen _more_ , at the time, of course, but he's a doctor and is probably used to that. I'm not."

"Pepper needs you."

Tony snorted.

"She doesn't _need_ me, Peter. Not like I need her. She loves me, I know, but she is _very_ much the dominant person in our relationship, believe me. I love her, though – more than she'll _ever_ know, because I'm God-awful at expressing myself to her. But I'm learning. She's teaching me."

"Oh."

"So then Pepper and I are suddenly – or maybe _not_ so suddenly – a _we_. A family, even, if you will –although she isn't in any hurry to marry me and make it official. Then the thing with May happened, and that _was_ sudden, I know. For her. For you. For me. And she asked me for the one thing I never would have dared to even admit that I wanted. Not even to myself, really. She could have asked _anyone_ responsible to take you. I know Stephen would have in a heartbeat. Or Ned's mom. But she chose me – and then _you_ chose me, and you wanted me. _Maybe_ even as much as I wanted you. It's pretty heady stuff."

Peter nodded.

"It is for me, too. Sometimes overwhelming."

"I understand. But you're a part of the _we_ , now, you know? A very welcomed part. To both of us. It's not always going to be fun and games, I'm sure – which is why when we get a reason to have fun, we're going to take it and make the most of it – but never forget you're wanted. And if I start to annoy you, tell Pepper if you don't want to tell me, and she'll rein me in. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

They sat at the table, quietly, just thinking about the conversation they'd had. A middle of the night, cabin in the woods snowy night conversation that probably wouldn't happen in the bustle of the city or even the confines of the Avenger facility.

"I'm going back to bed," Tony finally told him, handing him the arrow. "You should get some sleep, too. You can play Legolas tomorrow, okay?"

Peter smiled.

"Yeah. Good night."

Tony got up and headed back to the bedroom. He wasn't too concerned about Peter sleepwalking that night, now. They had his schedule down pretty well, by now, and he tended to do his nocturnal wandering around the wee hours of the morning – and usually when he'd been asleep for a while. By the time the boy went back to bed, he would be fine.


	19. Chapter 19

"Are you going to sleep all day?"

The voice was feminine, soft and a bare whisper in his ear. It woke Peter, but was soothing to him and there was no urgency in the tone.

"I _might_."

He was warm, and comfortable.

She joined him in his bed, scooting right up beside him and then leaning down to press a hand against his cheek.

"Are you feeling okay?"

He still didn't open his eyes, but he rolled a little toward her and nodded.

"Just sleepy."

"Stephen's making French toast for breakfast."

Peter smiled.

"Bet Tony loves _that_."

"He's trying to convince him to make you a special platter of it without cinnamon."

"That's gross."

He opened his eyes and looked up at Pepper, who smiled down at him. She was obviously up and ready for her day, dressed in a sweater and jeans with her hair pulled back into a pony tail and wearing very little makeup. He didn't think she needed any, really.

"I wouldn't worry too much. As much as Stephen loves to annoy him, he's probably making yours with _extra_ cinnamon."

He nodded the truth to that, and stretched, looking toward the window. It was still snowing outside. After Tony had gone to bed the night before – or early that morning, depending on how you looked at it – Peter had stayed awake a while longer. He'd gathered his Robin Hood set together and carefully put the components back into their packaging and had turned out all the lights in the kitchen and the dining room. Then he had stood at the dining room window for a long time, looking out, watching the snow falling, and thinking about his conversation with Tony.

"Is everyone awake?"

"Yes. You're the only holdout."

"I stayed up late."

"Tony told me he found you shooting targets with the archery set Clint got you. You weren't sleepwalking, though, right?"

"No. Just awake and couldn't sleep."

Or was worried about sleeping. One of the two. Pepper brushed her hand against his cheek for another moment, and her expression made Peter think that she knew what was going through his head.

"You could have stayed in bed with us. You know that, right?"

"I'm too old to sleep with mom and dad."

She smiled at that.

"Not if it keeps you safe. Or makes you feel secure. Tony doesn't mind, and _I_ certainly don't. It's a small price to pay to make sure you're alright."

"Thanks, Pepper."

"We love you. You _know_ that, right?"

He couldn't help the sting of tears and he nodded silently, well aware that he wasn't going to be able to speak with the huge lump that was suddenly constricting his throat. She understood, though, and leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead.

"I mean it."

"I know," he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm sorry."

She touched his cheek, again.

"Get dressed and come eat breakfast, okay? I feel like watching Tony spar with Stephen and you eating cinnamon is one of my favorite subjects."

"I'll be right down."

OOOOOOO

He was dressed and heading down the stairs in a very short time, and could smell coffee and cinnamon in the air long before he reached the living room – much less the dining room. He noticed Jack stretched out on the hearth in front of the fireplace, sound asleep, and then looked over at the dining room table and realized it was almost full. And that there were two newcomers to the group that was sitting around it eating breakfast.

Clint and Bruce looked over at him when he entered the room, and both men smiled.

"Have you been sleeping away the whole vacation?" Clint asked as Peter joined them, sliding into the chair between Ned and Natasha.

Everyone had plates in front of them and were eating French toast, bacon and bowls of oatmeal. Peter's stomach growled.

"I stayed up late last night," he told them both, nodding a good morning to Steve and to MJ. "When did you guys get here?"

"A couple of hours ago. My wife's folks came for a surprise visit and wanted to steal the kids, so she went with them and I went back to the compound a day early. Then I decided why not come out _here_ early and spend some time with you guys?"

Peter looked at Bruce.

"I showed up at just the right time to be his copilot – even though I'm next to useless behind the controls of the jet."

"I'm glad to see you," Peter told them both, sincerely.

"If we'd have known you were coming, we would have saved you some birthday cake," Natasha told the two.

"No, we wouldn't have," Tony told them, coming out of the kitchen with a platter of French toast and bacon in his hands. He set them in the middle of the table, but mainly in front of Peter – who checked to see if there was cinnamon on the French toast. There was. "It was _good_. You snooze, you lose."

Clint and Banner both rolled their eyes at that, but they were used to Stark and assumed he didn't mean it. Much. Pepper brought out a plate and cutlery and set them in front of Peter.

"It's still snowing, but I don't think we'll have any trouble finding the hill if you guys want to go sledding today."

There was immediate agreement from Ned and MJ. They were already finished eating – as was Steve. He offered to go with them – just in case an emergency came up – and they all headed for the door to get bundled up. Peter stabbed a few pieces of French toast from the platter, ignoring Tony's scowl as he poured syrup on them. He didn't miss Clint's grin, though. Clint found Tony's obsession with cinnamon more amusing than any of them – except maybe Strange.

"How did you guys find the place in the snow?" Peter asked as the door opened and Steve, MJ and Ned left.

He could see it was coming down fairly hard.

"Stephen brought us in," Bruce told him.

"If MJ asks, though, they came with the guides by snowmobile," Stark added.

"Are there tracks in the snow?" Peter asked. "She's pretty observant."

"We can say they're buried from the new snowfall."

"Okay."

That would probably work.

"This place is pretty nice," Clint said, looking around. "Good choice, Peter."

The boy smiled at that, almost as pleased as if he'd built the cabin himself.

"Yeah. It's great."

Strange and Pepper joined them from the kitchen, plates in hand so they could eat, too.

"Gentlemen, I need a dishwasher," Stephen told them.

"I'll do dishes," Peter offered.

"I'll help him," Clint said.

"No." Strange's expression was amused as he sat down beside Natasha. "You two in a kitchen together? Not _likely_. When the inevitable wrestling starts, I have visions of sharp items being knocked off tables and falling – _pointy side_ down - and landing on one of you."

"We're not that bad," Barton protested.

"You kind of _are_ ," Natasha disagreed, an apologetic smile crossing her features. " _I'll_ help Peter with the dishes, and you guys can check the place out and then go sledding. We'll join you."

Stephen hesitated, because he hadn't intended to sled again that day. He'd had plenty of cold and exercise the last two days. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for the excuse he was almost certainly trying to come up with and he shrugged.

"Why not?"

Maybe he'd soak the aches, pains and cold away in the hot tub later. They hadn't tried it out, yet.


	20. Chapter 20

"We could let the dishes wait until later," Tony said half an hour later as he brought a small stack of plates sticky with syrup into the kitchen and set them in front of Peter, who had pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and started the water running in the sink. "They're not going anywhere."

"It won't take long to do them," the boy assured him. "Not with Natasha helping. Go sledding. Try the innertubes; they're a lot of fun. We won't be far behind."

"Don't spend too much time in here," he told them both as Natasha walked over with a dishtowel draped over her shoulder. "There's fun to be had."

"We're fine, Tony," Romanoff said, shooing him away with the end of the towel. "Keep Stephen company for me."

"I don't need a babysitter," Strange told her with a smile. He'd heard her comment just as he'd arrived in the kitchen with a handful of cups and cutlery to give to Peter. "Certainly not Tony Stark."

"I didn't say _babysitter_ ," Natasha corrected. "But it won't hurt you to have him keep you company."

"He makes my head ache," Strange told her, winking at Peter, who grinned. "But I'll spend time with him, anyway – for _you_."

"I _can_ hear you," Stark reminded him.

"I know."

"Get out of here, guys," Natasha told them. "We have work to do."

OOOOOOOO

It snowed all morning.

They spent several hours on the hill sledding. Sometimes going down alone, sometimes doubled or even tripled up on one of the bigger tubes, sometimes in chains. Natasha had brought Jack with them when they'd left the cabin and the puppy spent much of that time chasing one innertube or another.

Not surprisingly, Clint and Peter eventually attempted a continuation of the snowball fight that they'd started in the meadow on Friday, but the snow was the dry sort that didn't pack, and they ended the contest with a wrestling match that started at the top of the hill and ended up at the bottom, with both of them covered in snow and a little worse for wear once they'd come to a stop in a breathless heap. Then they'd just stood up, brushed themselves off and started again, much to the amusement of the others – especially Ned and Bruce.

Strange was the first to leave the sledding area. He told Natasha that he was going to go get lunch started – after he had a chance to take a long, hot, shower. Pepper and Steve followed, along with MJ who was getting cold and then Natasha and Bruce. Ned and Peter stayed on the hill with Clint and Tony until a call on Tony's watch told them all that lunch was ready and if they didn't come eat soon, they were going to feed their share to Jack.

"That threat is _real_ ," Tony said, brushing snow from his coat and then the snow pants. "Let's go eat. I'm hungry."

And he was tired. And a little sore. And _freezing_. But he didn't bother telling them that. They were heading inside, after all. That would solve all of his problems. He put a gloved hand on Peter's shoulder and another on Ned's.

"I am, too," Ned agreed.

"What are you guys going to do after lunch?" Stark asked them, watching as Clint chased one of the innertubes that had somehow managed to get onto its edge and was being blown away by a stiff breeze that sprang up. "More 3-D chess?"

"I want to try snowshoeing," Ned said, looking around Tony toward Peter to see if he was up for it. "Yeah?"

Peter nodded.

"Sure."

"Not alone, though," Tony told him – told both of them. "We'll see who else wants to go along."

"It's not that dangerous," Peter pointed out. "We didn't run into any problems yesterday, remember?"

"That was yesterday."

"Tony..."

There was being protective, and then there was coddling. Peter loved that Stark wanted him to know he cared about him, but he didn't want – or _need_ – to be wrapped in bubble wrap.

"Just see who else wants to go, okay?"

"Okay."

After a morning of trudging through the thick snowfall, going up the steep hill over and over and having the cold sap the energy out of them, it wasn't a surprise that there wasn't a lot of interest in snowshoeing from the adults in the group – although MJ said she would like to try it, too.

"I'll take them, Tony," Natasha offered as they finished up a meal that included soup, salad and all the sandwiches they could stuff into themselves.

Peter shook his head, knowing that the cold made her ribs hurt and not willing to subject her to that unless it was something that she really wanted to do – and he could tell she was tired, too.

"We can go alone, Tony," he said. "We won't go far."

"Yeah, Mr. Stark," Ned agreed. "Besides, if something _did_ happen, we could call you, remember?" He held up the wrist that had the communications watch on it.

"What if you get turned around and can't find your way back?"

"We follow our tracks in the snow," MJ said, speaking up. She didn't say it, but her tone clearly added the word 'duh' to the end of her sentence.

Pepper hid a smile as she watched the three teens take on Tony Stark in a battle of logic and wills over course of the rest of the meal. She silently and very subtly shook her head when Steve started to speak up to tell Tony that he'd go snowshoeing. She wanted to see how he handled himself when facing a bit of rebellion. He was going to have to learn, after all. Better to start with something like this, rather than a really challenging topic.

Every argument that Tony made, one of the kids countered and he eventually looked over at Pepper for help. She shook her head and shrugged.

"They're smart enough to come back before dark, and to follow their tracks if they need to in order to get back here. They have watches if they need them, and we know that there aren't any cliffs in the area that could pose a threat to them in the snow. I'm okay with them going alone – as long as they stay _together_."

There was safety in numbers, after all.

The kids all nodded, and then looked over at Stark, who had clearly expected a much different kind of assistance to judge by the look he gave her before turning back to them.

"Fine. But you guys have to do the dinner dishes."

There was instant agreement, and they gathered their dirty dishes to take into the kitchen and then headed for the hooks that held their coats and snow gear by the door.

"I would have gone with them," Clint said.

Steve nodded, as well.

Pepper shook her head, though.

"He's sixteen and they're almost that. It's time to show them that we trust them – at least on a short leash. They were running around all morning, and Tony and Stephen both mentioned that snowshoeing isn't an easy thing to do. Peter has a lot of stamina, but Ned and MJ won't want to be gone too long, I don't think."

"Good point," Tony said, approvingly. He hadn't even considered that. "And Peter might not, either, since he really didn't get that much sleep last night."

"Now that that is settled," Strange said, speaking up. "Someone needs to do the dishes. Pepper and I cooked."

"I did breakfast dishes," Natasha said, smiling over at Clint, Steve and Bruce – all of whom immediately started playing rock, paper, scissors.

" _Damn it_."

Bruce and Clint finished eating and headed for the kitchen.

"Language…"


	21. Chapter 21

Since he was the 'expert' – having done the whole snowshoeing thing once more than the others – Peter showed MJ and Ned how to get their boots into the bindings of the snowshoes and then gave them a demonstration of how to walk in them. They caught on fairly quickly, taking a lap around the cabin and purposely aiming for the deepest drifts of snow that they could, and when they felt competent enough to try it in the trees, they headed away from the house and toward the forest that surrounded the place.

"It's harder than it looks," Ned said, walking abreast with Peter and MJ since there wasn't an actual trail that they were following.

"It beats slogging through waist high snow, though," MJ pointed out, not looking at them because she was focusing on her feet, making sure to pick them up with each step and not get them tangled and tripping herself up.

"Yeah, it does."

Under the trees the snow wasn't coming down nearly as hard, since the evergreens still had foliage and it was capturing the snow, sheltering them. There was still plenty of deep snow underfoot, but it wasn't quite as bad as whenever they would come to a clearing and would find that the snow was much deeper out of the protection of the trees.

Ned had his camera out, taking pictures. Not only of the scenery – which was pretty – but also of Peter, MJ and himself in all their outdoor trappings. If nothing else, he was sure his mother would want to see what he'd been up to and how well prepared they had been for the winter weather. Besides, no one at school would believe that there was so much snow so early in the season if he didn't have pictures to prove it.

They had walked for about an hour – which seemed like forever, but wasn't really all that far since they weren't in any hurry – and were discussing that they were probably ready to turn around, when Peter suddenly felt a warning tingle as they came out of the trees and into the edge of yet another clearing. A warning so strong that he came to an immediate stop and automatically brought his hands up to stop MJ and Ned, who were flanking him. His right hand pressed against Ned's chest, and his left went to MJ's.

Ned happened to have his camera up, and snapped a picture before coming to a complete stop.

"What's up?"

"Hush."

He heard what sounded like snarling and growls, and allowed the sound and his spider senses to direct his attention to the far side of the clearing – maybe 300 feet and slightly downhill from them. MJ gasped as her gaze followed his, and Peter froze, his hands still against the front of his friends' coats.

" _Holy shit!"_

It was only a whisper, but to Peter Ned's curse sounded way too loud - as did the soft clicking noise that the camera made as Ned automatically snapped a dozen pictures. A pack of wolves had taken advantage of the deep snow and had brought down an elk and were feeding on it, snarling and growling as they did. There was blood everywhere, staining the trampled snow on the other side of the clearing.

"Shut _up_ ," Peter whispered, taking hold of their coats and pulling both of them behind him, his eyes only on the scene in front of him. "Back up. Slowly…"

He heard a whimper but wasn't sure if it was Ned or MJ – or if it was coming from him – and carefully pulled his gloves off as he heard his friends moving away from the clearing as quickly as they could without seeming to move at all. He turned his head and saw MJ stumble, but she was behind a tree, now, and the snow muffled the noise that it would have made. Ned pulled her to her feet since it would have been a lot harder for her to do it herself in the snowshoes, and only when he was sure that they hadn't been seen – or were being ignored – did Peter turn as well, following them back into the shelter of the trees.

"Jesus," Ned whispered, his eyes wide and his grip on MJ's coat like a vice. "Did you _see_ that?"

"Let's get out of here," Peter told them, putting his gloves back on.

"I can't," MJ said, looking frightened. "I hurt my ankle when I fell. Got it twisted in the binding."

"Take that side, Ned," Peter told his friend, coming up beside them and putting her in between them.

He pulled her right arm over his shoulder and Ned did the same on the other side, and the boys just picked her up and carried her between them as they hurried back the way that they had come, following the tracks that they'd made. They moved as fast as they could without tripping themselves up, as well, but eventually Ned had to stop their hurried retreat.

"I need a breather," he gasped, lowering MJ back to the snow and grabbing his side, his breath coming in frosty pants.

"We're probably far enough away," Peter assured them both, helping MJ over to a large rock so she didn't have to try and walk on the hurt foot.

"That was scary," she said.

"Yeah." He looked down at the foot she was favoring. "How bad does it hurt?"

"It's not broken," she told him. "I broke my arm, once, at summer camp. "This didn't hurt like that did. More like I twisted it, I think."

"Let me catch my breath, Peter," Ned said. "Then I'll help carry her the rest of the way. We don't want her walking on it until Dr. Strange can look at it."

"No, you're right about that." He bent down and took off the snowshoes, since they were just in the way and she wasn't going to need them to keep herself on top of the snow, now. "Can you make it back if we carry you?"

He could call Tony for help, but even as Ironman Tony wouldn't be able to do any more than he and Ned were planning to do. Dr. Strange could open a portal, or jump her back, but he knew that the doctor didn't really want all that many people who weren't already in the loop to know what he could do, and if MJ didn't think the ankle was broken then it probably wasn't enough of an emergency to call _him_ for help, either.

"Yeah. I'm good."

"Okay. I'll take your snowshoes, so we don't trip over them."

It took Ned a couple of minutes to get his breathing back to normal, but he smiled at Peter when his friend walked over to check on him, looking up from the display of his camera at the photos he'd automatically taken of the wolfpack and the unfortunate elk – as well as Peter with his gloved hand pressed firmly against the front of MJ's coat.

"Dude, you touched her _boobs_ ," he whispered, turning his back to MJ in case she could read his lips.

Peter frowned.

"What? No, I didn't."

"You did," Ned told him, still whispering. He held up the camera and showed Peter the display. "Look."

Peter rolled his eyes, but he did blush a brilliant red that made Ned grin.

"Put that away and come help me."

OOOOOOOO

It was Clint who first saw them coming out of the trees. He was on the porch, talking to Tony about the flight back the next day when a motion in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he turned toward the trees in the distance. They didn't call him Hawkeye for nothing, after all.

"Uh-oh."

He moved toward the steps, causing to Stark to look that way as well, already moving. It wass a moment before he saw what Clint had.

The kids were coming out of the woods and obviously something had happened, because the boys were supporting MJ in between them, with Peter carrying her snowshoes in his free hand. Tony and Clint hurried as quickly as they could through the thigh deep snow to meet them.

"What happened?" Stark asked, taking Ned's spot at MJ's side, and automatically looking for any sign of injuries or any indication of what had happened to the little group.

Ned looked wiped out; his breath coming in gasps and his head hanging. Peter looked worn, as well, although not as much as Ned, and MJ looked more embarrassed than anything as Clint moved to take the girl's other side away from Peter to give him a break.

"I twisted my ankle," MJ told them.

"We saw some wolves," Ned gasped out, holding his side once more. "Eating an elk. It was so gross – there was blood everywhere."

Tony looked at Peter, alarmed, even though it was obvious that the boys were fine, and MJ wasn't suffering more than what she had mentioned.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah. We saw them, first. I don't think they even knew we were close by. They were distracted."

"We backed up and got the hell out," Ned said, getting his breath back. Now that they were safe, it wasn't a scary encounter, it was an adventure. "That was when MJ tripped on the snowshoe and fell."

"Go tell Stephen what's going on, Peter," Stark ordered. He turned to MJ and winked, reassuringly, to her as Peter and Ned both hurried ahead of them, pulling their snowshoes off when they reached the porch. "It's your lucky day, kid."

"How?" MJ asked, confused.

"Strange is a _brain surgeon_ , and we're going to make him take care of a sprained ankle. It's like making Picasso paint your fence. It's priceless."

MJ smiled, amused despite her injury and her embarrassment. Which was exactly what Tony had been trying for, even though only Clint and he knew it.


	22. Chapter 22

Tony walked into the living room holding a cup of coffee.

"How is she, Stephen?"

Strange looked up from the ankle that was resting on his thigh and winked at the girl it was attached to before turning his attention to Stark. The doctor was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, where MJ had been deposited by Tony and Clint as soon as they'd devested her of her coat, hat and gloves.

"She's fine. I doubt it's even sprained. I think she just twisted it awkwardly when she fell. There's no swelling and I can't feel any heat that would indicate a serious injury. I'm going to wrap it, ice it, and then we'll keep it elevated this evening and see how she feels at bedtime."

"MJ?" Stark asked.

She nodded.

"It hardly hurts at all, Mr. Stark, thanks."

"Well, we'll keep you off of it for tonight." He handed the coffee cup to Strange, who took it with a smile of thanks. "The boys can be your gofers if you need anything. Okay?"

She looked at Peter, who was sitting close by on the sofa, watching as Strange had taken MJ's boot and then sock off and had manipulated the ankle while watching the girl's reactions and asking her different questions about how each motion felt. He nodded.

"Yeah. No problem."

"I feel so stupid," she said, rolling her eyes. "Tripping over my own feet like that."

"You shouldn't," Stark assured her. "Peter tripped over Steve one day and cut his face on the shield."

"Really?"

She looked over at Peter, again, and he nodded, chagrined.

"Yeah. Busted my lip."

They didn't go into details, but she smiled, obviously feeling a little better about things. Of course, Tony Stark was very good at being charming when he wanted to relax someone, and he was making the effort, now. MJ didn't have a chance against it. Before she could say anything, though, Pepper joined them, holding an elastic bandage and an icepack.

"Well?"

"She's fine," Tony told her, taking Strange's coffee so the doctor could take the bandage from Pepper.

"Thanks to _Peter_ ," MJ said, shaking her head. "I didn't see or hear the wolves until he already had stopped us."

Pepper looked over at Peter, who blushed.

"I just happened to be looking the right direction," he lied. "We weren't that close, though – and they were too busy to be interested in us…"

"Well, you guys did a good job, getting away and not being seen," Tony told them. He looked over at Ned, who was sitting at the table in the dining room, showing the pictures that he'd taken to the adults sitting at the table with him. Not just the wolves and their gory meal, but the ones that he'd taken before, of them snowshoeing and the scenery that they'd walked through. The wolves were the most interesting, though, obviously. "I can't fault anything I've heard."

Couldn't blame wolves for being wolves, and he was sure that Peter had used those spider senses to avoid the carnage before there had really been much of a threat. From what he knew – from their encounter with a skunk while camping – those abilities of Peter's didn't just work in the city, apparently. Even better, Peter was obviously getting more adept at listening to them and applying the warnings that were being given.

"I'm going to wrap her ankle and we'll keep her still for a while," Strange told Pepper, repeating what he'd told the others.

They all watched as he did just that, expertly wrapping the bandage around the foot and then asking Peter to hand him a pillow, which he used to prop the foot instead of his leg. Once the foot was situated in a way that was comfortable for MJ and satisfactory for him, he put the icepack over the bandage and stood up.

"You're set," he told the girl, tweaking her toe, which made her smile. _He_ could be charming when he tried, too. He just rarely tried. "Let me know if it feels too tight, later."

"Thank you, Doctor Strange."

"You're welcome."

He took his coffee and went to the table to join Natasha and the others and MJ sighed and leaned back into the sofa.

"Does it hurt?" Peter asked.

"No. I'm good. Thanks."

Pepper smiled and took Tony's arm.

"We'll leave you guys alone," she told the teens, pulling Stark into the dining room, as well.

Peter rubbed his hands on his thighs, awkwardly.

"Need anything?" he asked. "Some hot chocolate?"

"You don't mind?"

"No. I'll be right back."

He practically jumped up and headed to the kitchen, walking by Tony, who couldn't hide his own smile. Luckily, Peter didn't even notice.

OOOOOOOOO

"What are you looking for?" Strange asked an hour or so later.

Peter pulled his head from the fridge and looked at the doctor.

"An apple."

"We're making _dinner_ right now," he reminded the boy, gesturing at himself and Pepper, who was leaning against the counter, pulling lasagna noodles from a box to set them to boiling.

"I know. I'm not going to eat it."

"Aren't you supposed to be entertaining MJ?"

"I _am_."

"With an apple?"

Peter nodded, smiling.

"Yeah."

There was a slight tingle and an apple appeared in Strange's hand. A shiny red one, that he handed over to the boy.

"Do I even _want_ to know how?"

" _I_ do," Pepper said, setting the noodles down and following Peter out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Strange followed, curious, and then shook his head, coming to a stop next to Tony, who was standing at the living room entrance watching the activities in the room. Pepper had stopped as well, but Peter had walked over to the far side of the room, in front of the sofa where MJ and the others could see him. He then turned to face Clint and put the apple on the top of his head.

Stephen realized that Clint was holding the bow from the Robin Hood activity set and had a foam tipped plastic arrow in his other hand.

"Seriously?"

Clint grinned, looking over at Strange.

"Don't look so worried, doc," he said. "I don't miss."

"That's what I'm _worried_ about." He looked at Stark. "You're okay with this?"

"I'm counting on him _missing_ ," Tony said, shrugging. "If he makes it, I take MJ's place doing dishes tonight. If he doesn't, then _he_ does."

"He should have eye protection, though," Pepper said, frowning. "Just in case."

A pair of plastic glasses appeared in Strange's hand and he passed them to Bruce, who walked them over to Peter. The boy put them on, and then put the apple back on his head and held his arms out.

"Ready?" Clint asked.

"Yeah."

Hawkeye knocked the arrow and drew it back. A moment later the apple was shot off Peter's head, and the boy grinned and caught it as it fell.

"Nice shot."

"Thanks."

Clint looked over at Stark.

"You do dishes."

"Double or nothing," Tony said. "If Peter can do it to _you_ , you do the dishes instead of me."

"And if he _misses_?"

"I'll do dishes by myself."

Barton smiled, and shrugged.

"Done."

Peter frowned, but Tony had seen the boy playing with the bow and the targets and he wasn't too concerned that he was going to end up washing dishes that night. Clint took the apple and the glasses from the boy, and handed the bow and another arrow to Peter, while Ned whooped encouragingly from where he was sitting on the sofa beside MJ.

Peter went back to his spot, and Clint put the glasses on his face, the apple on his head, and then held his hands protectively in front of his groin. Just in case. Peter wasn't the only one to smile at that, but he drew the bow and took quick aim. A moment later, the apple was falling, and Tony made a pleased grunt of satisfaction.

"Hah."

He didn't want to do dishes if he could avoid it, after all.


	23. Chapter 23

Dinner was lasagna and well worth waiting for. The addition of Clint and Bruce didn't cause any problem when it came to cooking something like that, since it was a meal that was designed to fill as many people as were present. There were fresh baked bread rolls, garlic butter to go with it and green beans. Rather than allow MJ to walk to the table – even though she assured them all that her ankle was already feeling better, Strange had Steve carry her over and settle her in a chair with a stool under the table that could be used to keep her foot elevated while she ate with them.

While they ate, they discussed the plans for the next day. Tony was in no hurry to get everyone up bright and early to leave, and the short term rental allowed for the entire day before checking out so he checked with everyone and took a poll to see how many wanted to leave early, and who wanted to play in the snow until afternoon and then leave. It would make for some sleepiness come Tuesday, but everyone was in favor of one last chance to enjoy the snow and the solitude.

"We haven't even made snowmen, yet," Ned pointed out, looking out the window while buttering a roll. "Or an igloo."

"Plenty of snow for that," Bruce said, frowning at the same snowfall that Ned was looking at. "Do we have any weather report, Tony?" he asked. "And does it _always_ snow like this here?"

Stark pulled out his phone. Normally, there wouldn't be much chance of a signal – it was the mountains and the middle of nowhere, after all – but this was Tony Stark, and a signal for him didn't come from a simple cell tower. Through Friday, he had a direct feed from any one of multiple satellites that his AI could connect to and interface with.

"Weather report says sunny skies," he reported. "Only the slight chance of snow."

"Well, that's promising," Steve said.

"Yeah. Except that was exactly what the weather report was for today – and for yesterday, as well."

"The mountains breed their own weather," Clint told them, sagely.

"What?"

"I saw it on a TV show, once," he admitted. "But it sounds good, am I right?"

Peter grinned.

"We're fine," Stark assured them. "If it snows like this all the time, then they're used to it and prepared for it. That's the point of bringing snowmobiles, after all."

They didn't all look _convinced_ , but they all nodded and finished eating.

OOOOOOO

When dinner was done, Steve carried MJ back to the living room where she and Bruce borrowed Peter's new 3-D chess game and started playing, with Steve watching for a while, and then turning his attention to brushing his puppy's coat while sitting in front of the fire. Tony, Strange, Natasha and Pepper cleared the table and wiped it down, bringing dishes into the kitchen for Peter, who was washing them, and for Ned and Clint to put into manageable stacks. Then they started playing cards.

"You don't _have_ to help," Peter told Clint, who was standing at the sink with him, handing him each dish, which he scraped and rinsed and then handed to Ned, who was loading the dishwasher. "We can do this by ourselves. Go play with the others."

Ned grinned, a plate in his hand, which he brandished with mock authority and pomp.

"Yes, son. Go play."

Barton smiled, and shook his head.

"A bet is a bet. Besides, with three people working on them, it won't take long."

"Okay."

"When we're done, maybe we can go outside? Play in the snow? Unless you've had enough of winter, by now…"

He'd enjoyed the sledding, and hadn't had as much time to play in the snow as the others. But now that he was there, he figured to make the most of what time he had. Ned and Peter both nodded their willingness, and the rest of the dishes that went into the dishwasher weren't quite as cleaned as the ones that had gone, previously.

OOOOOOO

"You're done, already?" Tony asked, looking up when the three walked out of the kitchen and turned the light off behind them.

"Yeah."

"That was quick," Natasha said, smiling as she watched Peter stand behind Tony, looking over his shoulder at his hand. "Do you guys want to play with us? We can switch to a different game…"

"We're going to go outside and play in the snow," Ned told her. "Thanks, though."

"Don't wander off," Tony told them, automatically.

"Where would we wander off _to_?" Clint asked. "The other snow-covered cabin miles away from here?"

Stark rolled his eyes.

"Just don't go anywhere – it's dark out and I don't want to have to come find you."

"We won't," Peter assured him, a hand on his shoulder.

"See if Bruce and MJ want to join you," Strange suggested. "She can test out her ankle – cautiously."

They went into the living room, but MJ had fallen asleep, curled up on the sofa with her foot sticking out at an awkward angle. Bruce had covered her with a throw blanket and was reading the handbook for the 3 D chess game and declined the invitation to join them outside. He was warm and wanted to stay that way. Steve declined, too, saying he was going to carry MJ up the stairs to her bed – once Pepper or Natasha was free to accompany him – and then he planned on making an early night of it, too.

They bundled up into their coats, gloves and hats, but didn't bother with the snow pants this time since they had no sledding plans. Hawkeye found the switch for the outside floodlights and they turned on the porch lights as well as thy walked out. The lights reflected on the falling snowflakes, giving the whole scene a somewhat otherworld appearance that Peter stopped to appreciate – and barely dodged the first snowball that Clint threw at him, saved only by those senses of his.

The snowball fight was epic.

Ned alternated between throwing at Peter and throwing at Barton – while he hid behind a snowdrift. Peter and Clint didn't bother to hide. Hawkeye could see the snowballs coming in plenty of time to dodge most of them offhand and Peter's senses always gave him plenty of notice.

It was a lot like sparring, really.

They both eventually ganged up on poor Ned, putting him into the snowbank and then whitewashing him while he shouted and laughed, trying to wriggle free of their grasp and at the same time grabbing for their legs to pull them down as well so he could retaliate. He managed to grab Clint, first, and Peter was more than willing to change his attack from Ned to Hawkeye. The archer suddenly found the back of his shirt stuffed with several handfuls of snow and he bit back an oath that Steve would have frowned at and tackled Peter into the bank as well, yelling for Ned to help him.

Which he did.

OOOOOOOO

"Do we rescue him?" Natasha asked, looking out the window at the melee in the snow.

"Which one?" Stark asked, turning from the window to watch as Pepper walked up the staircase with Steve following, carrying MJ easily in his arms.

The girl was out like a light, worn out from all the activity of the day. He figured Ned and Peter wouldn't be far behind, either.

Natasha watched as Peter jerked Clint off his feet and tossed him into the snowbank closest at hand.

"I was thinking about _Peter_ ," she said. "But now I'm, not so sure. He's holding his own fairly well."

"With his strength it's good for him to learn how to hold back to keep from hurting people," Strange said, also watching out the window, his arms wrapped around Romanoff from behind and his chin resting on her head. "It's good discipline."

"Agreed," Tony said – although he couldn't help the little stab of concern that he felt when Ned body slammed Peter into the bank next to Clint. "I think I'll go break it up, though. It's getting late."

Almost as if they had heard him, the three combatants all stopped at the same time and the watchers saw them all turn toward the front porch, the light making it easy to see their grins. Stark moved to meet them at the door, but Natasha held back, knowing quite well that she would pose a target to Clint as well as Peter -and perhaps even to _Ned_ if he was feeling particularly playful.

She was warm and dry and intended to stay that way.

"Who won?" Tony asked, leaning against the doorway to the living room as they stripped out of the soaking wet outerwear.

"I think it was a push," Barton told him, running a hand through his hair, which was either wet from the snow, or just from the exertion of being so active. "Although I got Ned pretty good."

The boy agreed, grinning, but Tony spoke up before he could say anything.

"You guys go get changed into something warm, okay? I don't want you catching a chill."

With the addition of Clint and Bruce, Ned had moved his things into Peter's bedroom to give Clint his room and Bruce had taken the other. Peter's room had a trundle bed that Pepper had had Tony pull out and it had already been made up.

"We don't have to go to bed, though, right?" Ned asked.

"No. It's not a school night. Stay up as late as you want."

Sweet."

The boy headed for the stairs, followed by Clint, who was definitely ready to get dried off and into some warmer clothing. Tony noticed that Peter hadn't followed – and hadn't joined in the banter. The boy had stopped in the middle of pulling his coat off and was looking out the little window in the front door, his entire body suddenly tense.

"Peter?"

He turned.

"Sorry. Yeah?"

"What's up?" Tony asked, walking up behind him and looking out the window over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

The boy nodded, and then shrugged.

"I thought I felt something… _off_ … but it might have just been Ned sneaking up on me, or something."

"Do you still feel it?" Natasha asked, having followed the conversation from her safe distance.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Something back home?" Strange asked him, always curious about how his senses worked, and how he interacted with them. Or even if there was a distance variable. Could the boy even feel if something was happening that far away? "In the city?"

Peter shook his head, feeling foolish.

"It's probably just my imagination – or playing around with Ned and Clint. I'm going to go change."

"Come back down when you're dry," Tony told him. "We'll make s'mores."

The boy nodded and pulled his jacket off and then walked in his stocking feet up the stairs and to his room.

"Are you sure you want to feed them that much sugar right before bed?" Stephen asked, moving with Natasha toward the sofa. Bruce had taken over one of the recliners and was dozing, the warm fire tossing enough eat at him to lull him to sleep. "You'll never get them to sleep."

Stark nodded.

"It's our last night here," he said. "I want to spend more time with him. Even if I have to lure him back down with marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate bars."

"You realize we didn't pack any of those items, right?" Strange asked.

"No?" he waggled his fingers, hopefully. "How about saving me the trip to the closest grocery store, then? It's a little dark and wintery out to go Ironman just for that."

The doctor rolled his eyes.

"And considering that the nearest grocery store is almost 80 miles away, I can understand why you wouldn't want to do that."

"Exactly."

"You're lazy, Tony. I've told you that, right?"

"You might have mentioned it."

He certainly wasn't going to deny it.


	24. Chapter 24

His name was Elmer Rupp. He was 35, married to a woman that he'd loved from the day he'd first met her, and the father of a little girl that he also had loved from the day he'd first met her. He worked two job; daytime as an armed security guard at a bank and night time as a part time clerk at a Conoco gas station. Not that he _had_ to work so much. His wife was an executive for a hospital in their home town of Boise, Idaho, and while they weren't rich by any means, they had enough to put food on the table and pay their mortgage every month.

Elmer worked the extra job to fund his photography hobby. He loved everything to do with cameras, including taking pictures of favorite subjects – his wife and daughter. The equipment wasn't cheap, though, and by working the extra job, he was able to feel justified spending what it cost to make sure he had the top of the line stuff and not just the basics.

This year, he'd dipped into that fund for a special treat. A trip to Montana to find some wildlife to photo. Not that Idaho didn't have spectacular scenery and wildlife, as well, but he had a friend from high school whose dad had a hunting cabin out in the middle of nowhere that they said he could use if he wanted a weekend away from the city. Elmer had jumped at the chance, double-checked with his wife to make sure she didn't mind and deciding on an extended weekend – through Tuesday – and after a couple of months getting things situated and waiting for the snow to fall to make the pictures that much more rustic, he'd driven to the cabin, only having minimal trouble on the snowy roads.

Alone in the woods with just the camera and the wildlife, with nothing to do but take photos all day and sort through them and pick out the best of the lot by night, he was having a good time. Good enough that he wasn't all that concerned when the snow started falling, adding to the already impressive snowpack inch by inch. There was a snowmobile at the cabin that he could use, and the stack of firewood against the leeward side of the cabin was an impressive one.

Then the snow hadn't stopped. Elmer decided a final outing on Sunday morning would be the last for him, since he wanted to be able to drive out before the snow closed the roads – or the Montana Department of Transportation did – and who knew how long he'd be stuck in the mountains if _that_ happened? He debated taking the snowmobile but was aware that the noise from the engine would scare away anything that he wanted to photograph, so had opted to hike through the wooded areas on foot, sticking to where the snow wasn't quite as deep.

He wasn't an experienced woodsman by any means, but he had been out hunting before he'd decided a camera took better pictures if there was still a spark of life in the creatures that he tracked down, and so he knew to bring a small emergency kit – just in case something happened. And a gun – because there were bears, mountain lions and even bison out there that might not be so willing to have their photos taken and might need to be scared off with a shot into the air.

By afternoon he was ready to call it a day, but then he realized that he was in trouble. The snow hadn't cleared his tracks – he could still see them behind him – but it was getting dark, now, and that was making it harder to follow the path back the way he'd come. The next time Elmer had stopped to rest, he was definitely feeling weary and worried. He was bundled up well against the cold, but it was full dark by now, and he realized that the trail that he'd been following wasn't his own tracks but were probably a deer or an elk. Somewhere in the dark he'd managed to get turned around.

Exhausted and knowing it would be suicide to wander the woods in the dark with just a thin beam of a flashlight to see by, Elmer found a sheltered area by a fallen tree to settle in. The roots had been pulled up, leaving a depression that he cleared out before tucking himself into it as close to the tree as he could. He started looking for any dry wood to be used for a fire, figuring he'd be better off if he stayed put, tried to stay warm and curl himself into a ball and wait for daylight.

OOOOOOO

Ned didn't last much longer than it took him to eat a couple of s'mores before he started falling asleep in front of the fireplace and eventually told everyone goodnight and went to bed, yawning and tired from what had been a very full day for him. Peter had more stamina and was more susceptible to the sugar that was coursing through his system, so he stayed up, sprawled in one of the beanbag chairs with a metal skewer in his hand and the bag of marshmallows beside him on the floor for easy accessibility.

Everyone had gone to bed except Natasha and Tony. They weren't in any hurry to sleep – and both had noticed that Peter seemed distracted and were a little concerned as to why that was. He'd make a s'more and would frown, almost as if his head hurt or something, and would then turn and look over his shoulder at the door – as if he expected someone to come knocking. Then he would take a bite of the treat in his hand, only to look back at the door once more.

"You're okay?" Stark asked – again.

"Yeah. Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck and set the skewer carefully to the side. "Too much _sugar_ , maybe…"

"Or something _else_?" Natasha asked.

Peter shrugged.

"I'm not sure…" he admitted. "Maye."

"Concentrate," Tony told him. "What's it saying?"

"It doesn't work that way, Tony. I just have a feeling…"

He sounded agitated, and Stark stood up.

"Why don't we go for a walk?"

If nothing else, it might calm the boy down a bit, or maybe give him that extra exercise that he needed to wear out whatever had hold of him.

Peter got up as well, almost looking relieved.

"Yeah."

"Want company?" Natasha asked.

Stark shrugged.

"We're not going to be gone long. Maybe just around the house – make sure there's nothing going on that we need to know about."

"Watch out for any moose."

Tony and Peter bundled up into boots, hats, coats gloves and scarves and went outside, closing the door behind them.

"Which way, Peter?" he asked the boy as they stood on the porch.

Peter headed out immediately, following that nagging itch that demanded to be scratched and only could with activity, going toward the only area that they hadn't yet explored on either of their snowshoe trips – and the opposite direction from the airfield. He ignored the effort of wading through the snow in his anxiety, and Stark followed, activating an arm of the Ironman suit to use to give them a powerful spotlight to see in the dark – and although it wasn't technically designed for that particular function, it worked amazingly well and lit up the area around them as bright as if the sun had come out.

The snow was still falling heavily, but they were under threes, now, and it wasn't too hard to move in it, but Stark was breathing heavily by the time they'd gone even half a mile.

"Now I know what I need to add to my suit," he told Peter. "A power snow shovel."

Peter smiled at that, although Tony couldn't see it under his scarf.

"I think we're close," he said. "It's getting more intense."

"Wait a minute, then." Tony put a hand on the boy's shoulder to stop him and then activated the rest of his suit. "Let me make sure you're not sensing a roving pack of alligators or something…"

"Alligators?"

Peter shook his head, but Friday was already scanning the area, and Tony was concentrating on what the readings were telling him. There were several woodland animals, big and small, out there hiding from the weather, hunkered down in sheltered spots, reading as small red dots of warmth on Friday's sensors. A pack of wolves in a large den – maybe the ones that the kids had seen that day – a lot of elk and deer standing in tight groupings and several bison, even. Some that were a little close for comfort. Nothing that looked out of place, though.

" _Boss, there's a person out there."_

Friday focused on a red dot that was not as large as the bison but was bigger than the individual elk or deer. A single dot, not moving, and hiding in the shelter of a fallen tree no more than a couple of football fields away, with a very small fire burning so close that it registered as a single heat source with the man next to it. They would have walked right by him in less than another half hour and probably would have missed him entirely.

"Vitals?"

" _Body temperature is a little low, everything else is normal."_

Tony deactivated the helmet of the suit but kept the rest on.

"Come on, Peter."

He moved to take the lead and used the Ironman suit to push the snow out of the way more quickly than Peter could have,

"What is it?" the boy asked, practically jogging, now, to keep up, but able to do so in the path Stark was making.

"We got a guy out there."

"What?"

Tony was almost running himself, but he was purposely dragging his feet to clear the path. Not only for Peter, but because they were going to be going back that way and it would make for easier travel. The man might be out there on purpose, but if he was, then he was an idiot, because the tiny fire that Friday picked up wasn't going to keep him warm overnight.

OOOOOOO

Elmer was pretty cold and a lot worried. The snow wasn't letting up, any, and even though he'd managed to find some wood and start a fire using a bag of Doritos as fire-starting tinder, there wasn't a _lot_ of wood, and the fire wasn't big enough to really do much to warm him up. He'd tried his phone several times, but there wasn't any service this far out, or maybe the mountains were blocking whatever signal there was.

Whatever the reason, he couldn't call for help – and even if he _could_ , he didn't know where he was and wouldn't have been able to tell anyone where to find him. He'd heard a wolf howling an hour or so ago, but hadn't heard much more than that. The rustling of some little creatures that were probably heading to shelter or – _God forbid_ – a mountain lion or some other kind of predator that hadn't tried eating a person _before_ but might be willing to try one that was out by himself in the woods, helpless. The more he thought about that possibility, the likelier it became in his mind and worry turned into downright fear that spiked every time he heard a noise.

He was ultra-alert, now, and all thought of sleeping until morning had long gone. Instead he held his gun in one hand and fed the fire with the other, flinching every time he heard anything out in the dark. He suddenly was aware of a rustling noise coming toward him from the dark and what sounded like heavy breathing. Elmer's imagination immediately screamed predator and he raised the gun. Something stepped on a branch in the snow, snapping it like a shot and Elmer jumped.

"Watch out, Tony!"

Startled, the gun in Elmer's hand went off. Immediately there was a clang that sounded like metal on metal and then a high-pitched yelp of pain.


	25. Chapter 25

" _Peter!"_

"I'm okay."

He wasn't, though, and he knew it immediately. He'd known something bad – something _terrible_ – was going to happen and that it was going to happen to Tony. Before he even had a chance to take in what he was seeing, a guy bundled up in front of a fire, looking scared and holding a gun, he'd tried to warn Stark, and had pushed him out of the way.

It hadn't worked exactly right, of course, he thought ruefully. Natasha and Steve had both told him that plans rarely survive beyond a first battle, but this one hadn't even lasted that long. The gun had gone off – shockingly loud in the still of the night – and he'd felt the warning before the bullet even hit the Ironman suit. Trying to dodge, he'd still felt the kick as he'd been hit, and the stab of pain that felt like fire along his hip.

He'd gone down – he couldn't help that – but he scrambled to his feet right away, forcing himself into an upright position, trying to reassure Tony and keep something terrible from happening. He looked at the man on the ground, who was staring at both of them as if they'd materialized from nowhere – which it had probably seemed like to them. The gun had fallen to the ground as soon as it had gone off, and Tony had his eyes on Peter, but one hand trained on the man huddled against the tree roots.

"Are you out of your _mind_?"

Peter flinched, but so did the man. Neither knew for certain who he was talking to.

"Holy _Jesus_ ," the man said, suddenly realizing who was standing in front of him. "You're – you're Tony Stark."

Tony turned his attention from Peter's pale face and looked at the man he was still targeting with the repulse in his left hand.

"Who are _you_?"

"Elmer Rupp. I'm lost."

"Well, now you're not."

"How did you find me? I didn't know anyone knew I was in trouble."

"Are you injured, Mr. Rupp?"

"No. Just colder than hell. Is your boy okay? Are you alright, son?"

Peter nodded, forcing a step forward and hiding the grimace of pain behind the scarf still wrapped around his face.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry about the shot," Rupp told them, sincerely. "I thought you were wolves – or a mountain lion. I've been hearing noises all night and was edgy. I didn't think anyone was out here."

"Where's the rest of your group?" Stark asked, not ready to forgive and forget just yet.

"I'm it. I'm staying at a friend's cabin, taking pictures of wildlife. I got turned around in the dark and decided I'd better stay put until morning."

"We can take him back with us, Tony," Peter said. "Doctor Strange can make sure he's okay."

"I'm _fine_ ," Elmer told them, both, looking relieved when Stark finally put his hand down. He could definitely sense the hostility coming from the man in the Ironman suit, but he understood completely. He finally dared to stand up. "Can you help me find my way back to the cabin?"

Tony scowled, looking over at Peter, before turning toward Rupp again.

"No one's there? Not even a dog, or a pet racoon or something?"

"No."

"Then we'll take you back with us and make sure you're really alright."

It's what superheroes did, after all. And what Peter wanted.

"I appreciate it."

Tony nodded and gestured to the tiny fire.

"Put that out. _Only you can prevent forest fires_ and all that." Rupp looked at him like he was crazy, but kicked some snow over the flames, which died with a hiss, and Tony turned back to Peter. "You're sure he didn't hit you? You're alright?"

Peter shook his head. There was saying he was okay, and then there was flat out _lying_ – and that wasn't something that Peter would do. Besides, he would find out, eventually.

"He _did_. But I'm okay."

"What?" The brilliant light was back, and Peter raised a hand to shield his eyes from it. Which lifted his coat just a little and allowed Stark and Elmer both to see the spreading scarlet stain above the upper leg of Peter's jeans. _"Jesus-"_

"It's not _bad_ ," Peter assured him, holding a hand against the pain. "Doctor Strange can take care of it."

Tony debated several things all at once, then. If Peter was on the ground with a bullet in his chest, he would have called Stephen immediately to come help. It would give away his abilities to Mr. Rupp, but that wouldn't have mattered – to either of them. Strange was reluctant to allow people to know what he could do, and while Stark didn't understand that – if he could do what Stephen could, _everyone_ would know – he did respect that it was his secret to keep. Besides, calling Stephen would frighten Pepper, as opposed to bringing Peter home, upright and more or less in one piece – proving to her that he wasn't in mortal danger.

He activated the helmet of the suit.

"Friday?"

" _It's a crease,"_ the AI responded, knowing immediately what Stark was asking. _"No injury to major blood vessels and not life-threatening, as long as it isn't allowed to infect."_

"Fine." He deactivated the helmet, again and moved to Peter's left side – the injured one – and gestured to Elmer. "Mr. Rupp? Take his other side, please. We'll carry him."

Peter didn't argue, and he felt Tony's grip tighten, just a little, as he drew Peter's arm over his shoulder. Rupp did the same on the other side, and Peter found himself a foot off the ground, suspended by the two men.

"Got him?"

"Yeah."

The trail back wasn't hard to follow, and while Rupp was _cold_ , he wasn't hurt and had no trouble keeping up with the pace that Stark set – somewhere between a fast walk and a slow trot. He had a million questions, of course, but recognized that it wasn't the place or time to ask them.

"How are you holding up, Peter?" Tony asked as they saw the lights from the floodlights at the front of the cabin in the distance.

"I'm okay."

"I'm going to call Natasha and have her wake Stephen – and _only_ Stephen, for now. We're going to try and keep Pepper from freaking out. Okay?"

"Yeah."

His hip was numb, now, but there was a spasm of pain that radiated from it – going down his leg and up into his gut and groin that refused to be ignored. He closed his eyes against a wave of dizziness and heard Tony talking to Natasha. What seemed like only a moment later – but could have been longer, since he wasn't sure he remembered any of the rush back – they were at the front of the cabin and Romanoff was standing on the porch, with Strange beside her.

"Put him on the sofa," Stephen ordered, holding the door for them and watching as Rupp and Stark carried Peter over to the couch and carefully settled him there. "Get his coat off."

"What happened?" Natasha asked, watching as Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the sofa.

"It was an accident," the boy said, grimacing. "We scared Mr. Rupp and his gun went off."

She frowned, looking at the stranger. "You _shot_ him?"

Peter opened his eyes.

"It was an accident, Natasha. I got in the way."

"Because he tried to push me _out_ of the way," Tony added, scowling as well as he carefully pulled Peter's coat and gloves off. The boots were next. "Don't _ever_ do that again. There's a reason I'm called _Iron_ man. I'm _bulletproof_."

"I'm sorry. It happened so fast." He gasped as Strange started cutting through his jeans and boxers, and then blushed brilliantly when he realized that there was no way the doctor was going to be able to look at the wound with his modesty intact and Natasha was still in the room. " _Wait_. I-"

"Don't you dare get bashful on me, young man," Natasha told him, coming around to the back of the couch where she would be out of the way and could still be there for him. "Now isn't the time…"

She leaned over, though, and pressed her cheek against his, her thick hair cascading over the boy's chest as she did, blocking her view of what Strange was doing – as well as Peter's. He winced and brought a hand up, but Tony grabbed it, holding him tightly.

"Easy…"

"It looks fairly clean, Tony," Strange said after a moment of prodding the wound that left Peter breathless, tears soaking Natasha's cheek. "The bleeding was bad, but it's almost stopped, now."

"Do we stitch it?" Stark asked.

"Can't. It's too wide for that. We'll dress it and use pressure to make sure there aren't any complications. Hand me that first aid kit."

He must have been speaking to Elmer, because Natasha didn't move and Tony didn't let go of his hand. Peter didn't open his eyes, but he felt a tingle that told him Strange had done something magical before he heard the first aid kit being opened.

"This is going to hurt, Peter," Strange told him. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, even though no one but Natasha could see it and felt her press tighter against his cheek, while Tony tightened his grip on the hand he was holding. A moment later there was a path of liquid fire across his entire hip that made him spasm and forced him to bite down on a cry of pain that would have woken not only the others in the cabin, but probably the people back home at the compound. It turned into a moan of agony that he couldn't choke down.

"Easy…" Natasha crooned, trying to comfort him behind the shield of auburn hair. "We've got you…"

He drew a stuttering breath and nodded, trying to wish away the pain. It didn't help, but she _did_ , and he felt her kissing his cheek while her hand kept his head still.

"That's the worst of it, Peter," Strange assured him. "I'm going to give you a shot of antibiotics – just to make sure you don't develop an infection, and a painkiller, then we'll get you bandaged up and let you rest."

"Okay."

"Do we need to move him to a hospital?" he heard Tony ask.

"They wouldn't do anything I can't do, here," Strange replied. "And the nurses here are better looking."

Natasha chuckled at that and even Peter was able to smile. He felt a couple of injections and then felt as Strange applied a bandage and drew a blanket over his lap. Even better, once the blanket was on, Peter was immediately dressed in a pair of loose-fitting lounge pants which made him sigh in relief, too. With him covered by the blanket, no one but Strange knew why he was relieved, but the doctor took Peter's uninjured knee in his grip and shook it, lightly.

"We're done," Stephen told Natasha.

She held him a moment longer, though, giving him a chance to catch his breath before allowing him to face the others, and only then did she kiss him once more and let him go, moving away from behind him to come around and sit on the other side of where Tony was now perched. Strange took a pillow and tucked it carefully between Peter's injured hip and Stark.

"We'll keep a little pressure on the wound," he explained. "Just to make sure it doesn't start bleeding, again. It will help it hurt a little less, too."

Peter nodded. While they'd been working on him, Elmer Rupp had pulled off his coat and had been observing from where he was standing almost inside the fireplace – where the fire was built up to provide as much heat as possible. Strange was on the coffee table, a pile of medical supplies – used and unused – beside him. He was watching Peter intently, his experience gaze making sure there wasn't any reaction to the medications that he'd administered.

"Thanks," Peter told him, feeling a wave of light-headedness wash over him.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, feeling the sting of pain from the wound start to fade as the painkiller's side effects started to draw him down into sleep almost immediately. He felt Natasha's arms come around him and turned automatically to put his nose against her collarbone as he started to drift off.

"You're welcome," Strange said, his voice oddly far away. "Now, will someone tell me what the hell happened?"

Peter didn't hear the explanation. He was already asleep before Tony and Rupp started talking.


	26. Chapter 26

Someone shifted beside him, causing a stab of pain that woke him with a soft gasp.

"Shhh… I'm sorry…"

He opened his eyes and saw Pepper situated where Natasha had been when he'd fallen asleep. She reached out and ran her palm along his forehead, then cupped his cheek. The lights in the living room were off, but the fire was still going strong, giving him plenty of light to see by. And he could see that her expression was concerned, and apologetic, but also filled with love – which made the pain ease a little.

"Pepper…"

"Hi, sweetheart." She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "We want to move you…"

He turned his head but was careful not to move the rest of his body, fearing the pain that he knew wasn't far behind any movement, even though at the moment all he felt was a dull ache that throbbed in time with his pulse. Tony was still beside him, an arm draped over the back of the couch but not quite touching him. There was a sleeping form bundled in blankets in one of the recliners and Peter assumed correctly that it was Mr. Rupp. There was a light coming from either the dining room or the kitchen, but he didn't know which, and wasn't interested enough to crane his neck to find out.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"We want to put you to bed," Tony murmured, and now he _did_ move his hand to touch Peter's cheek, too. "It can't be comfortable for you to be where you are."

"I'm okay," Peter told them, feeling the throbbing in his hip and unwilling to let it get worse by moving any more than necessary. "Please don't…"

"We won't, then," Pepper assured him, as if she understood the cause of his reluctance.

He closed his eyes, relieved and still tired, and tilted almost drunkenly her direction – instinctively leaning away from the nagging pain. He felt her arms go around him and his head went to her shoulder.

"You don't have to stay," he mumbled, realizing that it wasn't comfortable for _them_ to be upright, even if _he_ preferred that position just then. "I'm okay…"

"Of course we do," Pepper said, smiling at the boy even though he couldn't see her, brushing her hand along his hair, trying to soothe him back to sleep. " _Someone_ needs to be with you right now, and Jack can't be trusted not to pee on you."

He smiled, but was asleep almost immediately, still in the grasp of the painkiller Strange had given him. When he went limp against her, Pepper looked over at Tony, who was watching the scene quietly, but moved his fingers and brushed them against the back of her hand where it rested against Peter's hair.

"He's going to be fine," Stark assured her. "It's just painful right now."

"We're _sure_?"

"Yes. Stephen said the wound looks clean."

"Should we put him to bed? We could have Stephen do it. He probably wouldn't feel anything."

"Whatever you want to do, momma," Tony told her. "But remember, he'd have to be moved again in the morning – or he'd be stuck in the bed until it's time to leave and would miss out on things."

"He wouldn't like that."

Although she clearly wanted to put him to bed and keep him there for however long was needed to get him well.

"No. Probably not."

"We'll reassess in the morning," she decided.

Tony nodded and reached over, careful not to jar Peter's sore hip, and pulled a blanket up over her and the boy, even though the room was warm.

"I love you, Pepper Potts."

She smiled at that.

"I love you, too. What's your name, again?"

Stark rolled his eyes, amused and relieved that she was willing to tease him. She was concerned about Peter, but obviously not panicked. Which had been the whole point. He was sure Peter would agree.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, please."

He carefully got up and went into the kitchen, where Strange was standing at the sink, leaning against the counter and talking softly with Natasha.

"Did I hear Peter?" Stephen asked.

"Yes. He's asleep, now, though." Stark's expression was chagrined. "I bumped him and it woke him."

"Do you want me to move him?"

"No. He doesn't want to be moved – probably because it hurts."

"Most likely. I'll check the wound in the morning and assess what – if anything – we're going to want to do. I'm fairly certain he's not going to be able to handle a 4-hour flight on the jump seat in the jet."

"We'll tell the kids we're keeping him back an extra day, and then have you take him to the compound the easy way – if you're alright with that."

"Of course."

"You might ask _Ned_ if he wants to go that way, as well," Natasha suggested. "It would save us a lot of barf bags."

"Good point." Stark shrugged. "We'll figure out the logistics tomorrow. Don't forget to check MJ's ankle, too, okay?"

Strange rolled his eyes.

"I'm a _brain surgeon_. You _understand_ that, right? Not a pediatrician…"

" _You_ wanted to come," Tony reminded him, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a mug to pour some coffee from the pot that had been made fresh only half an hour ago..

"No. I _wanted_ to go to Bermuda, or Jamaica."

"Where we would then have you dealing with shark bites, or sunburns."

Natasha chuckled, certain that that would probably be the case.

"Does he need anything tonight?" she asked.

Strange shook his head.

"Just someone to stay close by in case he falls off the couch or something."

"Pepper and I will stay with him."

"At least he won't sleepwalk," Natasha pointed out.

"True."

"I'm going to bed, Tony," Stephen told him, dumping the last of his coffee in the sink and rinsing the cup. "If he wakes and you need me, come get me."

OOOOOOO

It was a worrisome night for Pepper and Tony. Peter was restless; made that way because of pain and odd dreams and it seemed that every time he moved, it jarred his hip and brought him awake to some extent. Sometimes whoever was holding him at the time – usually Pepper, but occasionally Tony – would soothe him with a quiet word or a tender touch, and he'd drift back to sleep. Other times he would be awake for a few minutes, whimpering from the hurt until the pain medication overcame the injury once more and dragged him back into sleep.

He never became fevered, though, much to Tony's relief, and he didn't seem delirious, either, since he knew them whenever they spoke to him. Sometime toward dawn, he finally dropped into a deeper sleep and seemed to actually be getting some rest.

OOOOOO

When Peter fully woke it was morning. At least, gloomy daylight was coming in all the windows of the cabin and the fire in the fireplace had been allowed to die down to mere embers. He opened his eyes, holding still to avoid any movement that would hurt him.

He saw that Pepper was gone from the sofa and now it was Tony who was acting as a pillow for him on the right side. No one was to his left, but there was a fat, soft pillow tucked between his hip and the arm of the sofa. Stark was sitting right up beside his uninjured side and talking softly with MJ, who was sitting on the other side of the billionaire. _She_ had her foot propped up on Strange's leg; the doctor sitting on the coffee table and checking it for range of motion and any lingering pain.

It was Strange who noticed that Peter was awake, since he hadn't moved his head from Stark's shoulder to look around, and the doctor gave him a tight smile.

"Good morning."

Peter brought a hand up to rub his face, sleepily.

"Hey."

Tony turned his attention to Peter as well, and he saw MJ move a little in order to look around Stark's body to see him, too.

"How do you feel?" Tony asked, a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair back.

"Sore."

"That's not surprising," Strange told him.

"How is your ankle?" he asked MJ.

"Seriously?" she asked. "You got _shot_ , Peter."

He flushed, defensive even though he didn't know why. Of course, he didn't feel well, so that probably didn't help.

"I _know_. I know how _I_ feel. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"She's fine," Strange said, letting MJ's foot go and allowing her to tuck it under herself, her chin resting on the other knee. "Although it wouldn't hurt to minimize what kind of activities you take on this morning."

"Maybe I'll just sit on the couch and keep Peter company."

Tony smiled, because Peter turned red, again.

"Is it still snowing?" He asked.

"Harder than ever. No snowshoeing for you, though."

He lifted his head, then, just a little, to look around.

"Where's Mr. Rupp?"

"He's outside with Steve and Clint, digging out a new play area for Jack."

"Is he okay?"

Strange nodded.

"He's fine, considering that he was out in the cold with very little shelter. I'm not sure he would have made it through the night, though - or at least, he probably wouldn't have been in any condition to find his way back to his cabin in the morning."

"How did you find him?" MJ asked, curiously. "He wasn't yelling for help or anything, right?"

Peter closed his eyes, because he knew he wasn't a good liar, and she would know by his expression if he didn't tell her the truth. MJ was very perceptive.

"I went Ironman looking for wolves or other dangers while we were walking last night and just happened to find him," Tony explained.

He, of course, was more than willing to lie - to pretty much anyone. There were very few exceptions.

MJ was impressed.

"You probably saved his life, then."

Stark smiled, moving his arm around Peter's shoulder and ruffling his hair, affectionately.

"That's what superheroes do."


	27. Chapter 27

Once he was sure that Peter wasn't going to go right back to sleep, Strange shooed MJ into the dining room to join Natasha and Pepper, giving the living room to the males long enough for him to check Peter's wound and make sure it wasn't getting infected, despite his best efforts. Natasha and Pepper both made booing noises and complained bitterly about being left out, which made Peter smile even though he was blushing furiously. At least Karen wasn't there to make stripper music when Tony helped him peel back the cloth of the lounge pants, baring the bandaged hip for them to see.

"It looks pretty good," Stephen said, carefully pulling the bandage away from the gaping gouge the bullet had made in Peter's hip.

Peter had never actually seen a bullet wound, and he frowned down at it, and then looked at the doctor.

"Are you _sure_?" he asked. "It looks bad to me…"

"It's a _gunshot wound_ , Peter," Strange pointed out. "It's not going to look appealing. There's no sign of infection, though, and that's a start." He pulled the used bandage off and took an antiseptic soaked cloth from the first aid kit. "This will hurt a bit."

The boy nodded, and about jumped out of his skin when the cloth first came in contact with the wound. Tony grabbed his upper arms, holding him as well as he could, but Peter was stronger than Stark, and he knew it. He forced himself to hold still, despite the fact that it felt like Strange was actually digging into the wound with a blunt knife.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Strange promised him, not missing the reaction.

He couldn't.

"I know. Sorry."

Peter was literally shaking by the time the doctor had cleaned it and had put a new bandage over the wound, and Tony tucked his head up under his chin and held him for a moment, giving him a chance to recover.

"I'm going to give you another shot of painkiller, Peter," Stephen told him, holding up a syringe. "It's strong enough that it'll take the edge off and hopefully help you get some more rest."

"Okay."

"Do you want us to put you into our bed?" Tony asked. "It's closer than yours, and things might get noisy in here once everyone comes inside."

Peter shook his head and watched as Strange injected the contents of the syringe into his other hip.

"No. I'm okay here. Honest."

He did _not_ want to get on his feet.

"You ladies can come back, now," Strange told them, helping the boy ease the cloth of his lounge pants over his hip and then covering Peter with the blankets once more. He tucked the pillow against his hip again, setting it between Peter and Tony.

"How is he?" Pepper asked, walking around the sofa to look at Peter – who was pale and still a little shaky.

"I'm okay," he assured her. "Just sore."

"Stephen?"

"It's red and raw, but there's no infection. I don't want him on the Quinjet, though. He'd never make the trip home without starting to bleed again."

They hadn't actually had a chance to discuss the plan to have Strange take Peter back to the compound the quick and much less painless way, but Peter didn't complain. He'd leaned back against the cushions of the sofa, once again lilting a little to the side away from the agony of his hip – which was starting to ease a bit as the powerful painkiller took effect.

Pepper nodded.

"We-"

Tony's cell rang, just then, and at the same time the front door opened, and Steve, Clint and Elmer walked in, with Jack bouncing happily around them. They stripped out of their outer clothing, and Clint's eyes lit up when he saw that Peter was awake on the sofa.

"No."

Strange's voice was quite firm and the one word held nothing but admonishment. Clint raised an eyebrow at the magician and he gave him an innocent look.

"Whaaaat?"

Tony got up to answer the phone call, leaving his space for Natasha, and Pepper took the other side. Both women looked at Barton, expectantly, as they sat down, flanking the boy, but he knew better than to mess with his favorite target with so many imposing protectors around him. Besides, _he_ didn't want to make him hurt worse than he already did – and he looked like he was really hurting.

Peter couldn't help but smile, smugly. But he didn't say anything to goad Barton, well aware that he wasn't in any condition to wrestle – even though it really was one of his favorite forms of entertainment.

Ned came stumping down the stairs with Bruce just as Tony returned to the living room after a very brief conversation.

"Good, you're all here."

"Yes," Bruce said, facetiously. "Yes, we are _all_ here."

Stark rolled his eyes.

"And apparently, _here_ you will stay."

"What's up?" Steve asked, sitting in a recliner and picking up Jack and an old towel he was using to dry the puppy whenever he came inside.

"That was Polly."

"Who's Polly?" Clint asked, curiously.

"The other half of our snowmobile guides," Tony replied. "They're not going to be able to come take us out today. The snow's too deep, and only supposed to be getting worse. They want to wait until it stops snowing."

"When will that be?" Pepper asked.

Stark shrugged.

"Might be tonight. Might be _Thursday_. Apparently, it's dangerous going right now, and they don't want to risk it."

"I don't want to risk it, either," Pepper said, frowning.

"We're snowed in?" Ned asked.

"So it seems."

" _Excellent!"_

The boy's grin was like sunshine, but Tony gave him a sour look.

"Pepper? Will you call the kids' parents and let them know what's going on so that they don't worry?"

"Of course."

She eased herself away from Peter's side – careful not to jolt him – and beckoned for Ned and MJ to follow her into the dining room so that she could make the calls, but the parents could speak with their offspring to reassure themselves that they were fine, and it was only snow.

"We could snowshoe out," Clint suggested.

"It's a fair distance."

"You wouldn't be able to drive in this once you reached your car," Elmer mentioned.

If the man had been shocked to see Ironman out in the woods the night before, he was downright flabbergasted when he'd woken that morning to a chocolate lab puppy licking his face and being called to order by none other than _Captain America_. Stark had quickly explained what had happened the evening before, reassured Steve – and then Clint who had joined them a minute later – that it wasn't a serious wound, and Peter would be fine according to Strange and had made introductions all around.

"We _flew_ in," Clint told him. "That won't be a problem."

"Getting there would be," Stark said, shrugging. "It's a long way and I don't want to make the kids try it."

Not that they would even have made the attempt with Peter.

"There are worse places to be snowed in," Bruce said, looking around.

"True." Stark looked at Rupp and offered him his cell, knowing quite well that Elmer's phone wouldn't have the satellite capabilities to get a signal. "Mr. Rupp? Looks like you're going to be staying with us for a few days. You might want to call your family to let them know you're safe – in case they start to worry."

"Thank you."

Elmer walked a little off to the side, shaking his head in disbelief and wishing that he dared pull his camera out and start taking photos. No one would believe what he was doing – and who he was doing it with.

Tony then turned to Clint.

"Call Fury. Let him know."

"Yeah."

If something came up, they'd force the issue of leaving. Tony and Clint could always snowshoe to the jet and bring it to the cabin, but it wasn't a great plan and there wasn't a safe place to land to pick everyone up. They'd just settle in and wait for the snow to stop. If nothing else, it would give Peter a quiet place to heal a little.


	28. Chapter 28

Once all the phone calls were made, the entire group gathered at the dining room table. They _were_ going to meet in the living room, but Peter had fallen asleep and no one wanted to wake him for something that he wouldn't need to add any input to. Instead, Pepper had propped every cushion and throw pillow on the couch around him to hold him in place and had gone to sit beside Tony, smiling at him when he brought her a cup of coffee.

"So, we're going to be here a while," Stark said, standing up because he was running the impromptu meeting and he thought better when he was standing. "You've all met Elmer?"

There were assorted nods, and the photographer gave the table a half-wave in greeting.

"Good. There's no reason to worry about this. The cabin is designed for luxury and _winter_ – obviously."

"We're not going to run out of food?" Ned asked, more comfortable with Stark than MJ, who had the same concern.

Tony shook his head with a tight smile. They'd never have that concern with Stephen in the cabin with them, but he'd address the issue for MJ and Rupp.

"No. We brought a lot more than we needed – on the assumption that more people might show up. If we start running low, I'll go Ironman and find the closest grocery store."

"Wouldn't that be a sight," Natasha said with a wry smile of her own. "Ironman in the produce department picking out cantaloupes."

He rolled his eyes. That was the whole point of having a suit that would disengage at will. Ironman would land in the parking lot, Tony Stark would walk the grocery aisles looking for coffee grounds.

"If we _do_ run out of food, we adults will take a vote and eat you kids, first."

That made Ned and MJ both smile, which was the whole idea.

"Other than that, we'll just keep enjoying ourselves. The snow isn't so bad that we can't find the sledding hill – if anyone is interested – and there is plenty to do inside. No snowshoeing or skiing, though, unless it's a group. Mr. Rupp? Try not to wander off, either, okay?"

"Right."

Elmer was just relieved that he wasn't stuck in the little cabin that he'd started in. He was definitely aware that there weren't enough provisions there for any prolonged stay – and it would have been lonely.

"What about _Peter_?" MJ asked. "Shouldn't he be in a hospital?"

Pepper hid her smile. Not the question – which was a fair concern – but the fact that it was MJ who was asking.

"No," Stephen said, fielding the question, since it was definitely his to answer. "I have all the medication needed to take care of him, and there's nothing a hospital could do that I can't do here. Although I might call on everyone to assist me in taking care of him."

"What does he need?" Tony asked.

"Right now? Just rest. We won't want to move him around too much – or _let_ him move any more than necessary. Which means that we'll be gofers for him."

"He won't like that," Ned said.

He knew Peter best, of course.

"I know. But do it anyway. I'll explain things to him when he wakes up and is a bit more coherent. Keep him company when he's awake, to distract him." Strange looked at Clint. "No roughhousing – and no William Tell."

Clint rolled his eyes but nodded.

"It wouldn't be very sporting right now, anyway."

"Any other questions?" Tony asked.

There weren't.

"Okay." He looked at Pepper. "Breakfast?"

She nodded.

OOOOOO

"Peter?"

The soft voice pulled him from a dream that had him and Tony flying through the air, both in their respective suits with the city lights far below them and a rush of excitement coursing through him at the speed that they were going. Reluctant to lose that vision, he didn't open his eyes immediately, thinking that he could go back to sleep. When a hand touched his cheek, however, he knew Tony wasn't going to let him go back to sleep. With a sigh at that realization, he opened his eyes, feeling the now familiar ache in his lower side that was present any time he was awake – although at the moment, it didn't seem to hurt too much.

Stark was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, watching him. Someone was sitting beside him, because there was a warm body beside him and an arm around his shoulder holding him secured. His head was resting against her and while he didn't look to see who it was, the touch was so familiar that he knew it was Natasha.

"Hey…"

Stark smiled. The voice was barely a croak, but he didn't look too terrible. Just sleepy.

"Hey. We need you to wake up and eat, okay?"

"I'm _sleepy_."

"I know."

"And I was having a good dream."

Tony smiled.

"About what?"

"We were flying. I was stuck to-"

A hand came over his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. He knew Tony hadn't moved, so it had to be Natasha's. She covered up the motion by pressing a kiss against his cheek, and Stark frowned and looked to the side. Peter followed his gaze and saw that MJ was seated on the other side of Natasha, playing 3-D chess with Bruce. She was looking his way but didn't seem to be paying too much attention to the conversation.

"How about some lunch?" Tony asked, smoothly.

"Where's _breakfast_?"

"You slept through it."

"It was _good_ , too," Bruce said, looking over from his seat on the floor in front of the coffee table. "Biscuits and gravy."

"No one woke me?"

Natasha brushed a kiss against the top of his head, smiling at how petulant he sounded.

"Stephen told us to let you sleep. Blame him."

"Can you eat a chili dog?" Tony asked him.

"Three?"

"Sure." Stark was pleased that he had an appetite. "Stay awake, okay?"

"Yeah."

He closed his eyes, though, and dropped his head back to Natasha's shoulder when Tony got up and headed into the kitchen.

"What did you guys do today?" he asked her, not opening his eyes.

"Ned, Steve, Clint and MJ went sledding this morning. We played cards. Elmer showed Pepper some of the photos he's taken."

"What kind of photos?"

"Wildlife. That's what he was out doing when he got lost, apparently."

"They're pretty good," MJ said, speaking up for the first time. "He gets a lot closer than any that we got."

"I'd like to see them, too."

" _After_ we feed you something," Natasha said. "Just in case you get messy. Then you won't spill on his equipment."

"Yeah."

"How do you feel, Peter?" MJ asked.

"I'm fine."

He felt a tingle coming from the direction from the kitchen and knew that his lunch wasn't going to be made from scratch – or even from a can. Which was fine; he was too hungry to wait that long.

"You don't _look_ fine."

"Well, maybe not _fine_. But not too bad. It only hurts a little, right now. You went sledding?"

He wasn't comfortable talking about himself.

"Yeah. The snow is really deep. They made a new enclosure for Jack, earlier, too. We're going to try making an igloo tonight – if the snow gets wetter so it'll pack."

He thought about saying that he'd help them make it, but he knew that he wasn't going to be ready to be on his feet that soon. Even if he really wanted to be. He was saved from any response by Tony returning with a tray that had the requested chilidogs as well as a pile of potato chips. He draped the tray over Peter's legs but was very careful to avoid letting it touch the inured hip when he did.

"Dig in," Tony ordered him. "If you eat everything on the plate, I'll even bring you a piece of pie."

"We have pie?"

"Elmer made it," Natasha said. "Apparently he's quite the baker when he's not taking pictures."

"I think he feels bad for shooting you," MJ said in a whisper, looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't around to hear her. "It's _good_ pie, though, so take advantage of it while you can."

Peter smiled and picked up his fork.

"What time are we leaving?"

"At this rate?" Stark said, reclaiming his spot on Peter's left, careful not to jar him and hurt him, or make him spill his lunch. "Friday."

"What?"

"Eat," Natasha said. "We'll explain later."


	29. Chapter 29

"He didn't make it, huh?"

Natasha smiled, looking down at the boy sleeping with his head on her leg.

"He managed the chilidogs but there was no way he was going to be able to keep awake for pie."

Peter had finished the dogs, and even some of the chips, but had then simply toppled, falling asleep almost without warning and once more leaning away from the pain in his hip. His cheek had unerringly found her leg, his hand coming up to rest beside his head on her thigh, but where he normally would have tucked his face against her hip, it would have required him sleeping on his left side – and that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Stark smiled.

"Do you need me to move him, so you can have a break?"

"No. I don't want to go outside right now, anyway. Go spend some time with Pepper and the kids. By the time you're cold and ready to warm up and cuddle, my leg will be asleep, and I'll be ready to get up."

He nodded, and pulled a blanket over Peter, tucking it around him, gently.

"Call me if you need anything."

"I need the _remote_."

He reached for it and handed it to her, but she didn't turn the TV on right away. Instead she watched as everyone except Stephen bundled themselves into their winter gear – including Elmer, who had been surprised when he'd been invited by Ned and MJ both to go outside and try to build an igloo with the others. With the _Avengers_. He took his camera, figuring the least he could do for all that Stark had done for him was to act as photographer for the group and make sure that they had some high-quality photos of the participants and their activities for as long as he was snowed in with them.

Strange picked up the lunch tray from the coffee table and took it into the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, he was carrying two cups of coffee and he handed one to her as he settled in beside her on the sofa, looking down at the boy who was so casually cuddled against her leg.

"If it were anyone else with their hand on your thigh like that, I'd be jealous as hell. You know that, right?"

Romanoff smiled.

"There's plenty of me to go around."

The doctor kissed her temple and then picked up the _Idiot's Guide to the Avengers_ from off the coffee table.

"Have you read this yet?" he asked her.

"I'm waiting for the _movie_."

He smiled at that.

"Boring…"

Then he opened the book. Natasha turned the TV on and the two settled into a comfortable silence as the snow continued to fall outside.

OOOOOOO

Peter woke on his own the next time and he was uncomfortable. Still stretched out on the sofa, he opened his eyes and winced as he moved his leg. Natasha's hand was already resting lightly on his shoulder, but she tightened her grip imperceptibly when he moved under her.

"You okay?"

"No. I need to get up."

He lifted his head from her leg, looking around for help. Preferably _male_ help. He saw Ned drowsing in one of the beanbag chairs and MJ in the other. Bruce was seated on the other side of Natasha, and Clint and Steve had the recliners. From somewhere behind the sofa – most likely in the dining room – he could hear Pepper, Tony, Strange and Elmer playing cribbage, because they were speaking in that odd fifteen five fifteen six gobbledygook that he still didn't understand. Everyone had a spot, but he realized that he'd dominated almost all of the sofa, keeping the others from having a place to sit in the living room if they wanted to.

Natasha didn't argue that he needed to hold still. Instead, she put a hand under his side and supported him while he sat up, and he bit down on a groan of pain when the motion shot spurts of agony through his hip.

Steve moved to help him get just a bit more upright than Natasha was able to accomplish from the angle that she had, and Peter caught his forearm before he could move away.

"Will you help me get up, Steve?"

Rogers frowned – and he wasn't the only one. Clint and Natasha both did, as well.

"Where are we going?"

"I need the _bathroom_ ," Peter said, softly, blushing when he looked over at Natasha.

Romanoff smiled, then, realizing why he not only looked almost desperate, but also why he didn't ask _her_ for assistance. She wondered if all teenaged boys were so shy.

Clint got up, as well, smiling at Peter's dilemma and Tony and the others caught sight of the movement in the living room and started to stand to come see what was going on. Rogers waved them all to theirs seats, while he took one side of Peter and Clint supported the other, taking all of the boy's weight to avoid allowing him to try and put any pressure on the injured hip.

"We'll be right back."

OOOOOOO

When they brought him back to the living room, still supporting all of his weight – although he hadn't felt too terrible when he'd been by himself in the bathroom – he asked them to help him to the table, rather than put him back on the sofa. He could see everything that was going on that way and didn't feel so disassociated with everything and everyone.

Tony smiled and pushed a chair out for him and he settled gingerly, thanking Clint and Steve profusely. On its own accord, Tony's hand came to his forehead, checking for fever – although the boy didn't look flushed.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Okay."

Rupp looked over at him, as well.

"I feel terrible about what happened."

"You _shouldn't_ ," Peter told him, sincerely. "It wasn't on purpose. Besides, I'm fine. It isn't so bad."

"It'll leave an interesting scar," Strange said.

Pepper smiled.

"Not that anyone will ever _see_ it."

Peter blushed.

"There's still a little time before dinner," Strange told him. "Are you hungry, though?"

"No. Thank you."

"Did you try my pie?" Rupp asked.

"I fell asleep before I had a chance to."

"I made sure to save you a slice," he said. "I'll go get it."

"It's okay," Peter told him. "I don't want to be a bother."

"No bother, son," he said, shaking his head. "It's the least I can do, really. Cup of coffee to go with it?"

"No. Hot chocolate? If you don't mind? If we have some, still?"

"We do," Strange told him. Peter felt a magical tingle that he knew none of the others could feel. "Check the cupboard above the dishwasher, Elmer. There should be several boxes."

Strange winked at the boy as the Idahoan nodded and left the dining room, realizing that Peter would have felt him magic up more hot cocoa mix but no one else would and Tony shook his head, touching Peter's forehead again.

"You're a lot more forgiving than I am," he murmured, softly. "You _know_ that, right?"

"He was _scared_ , Tony," Peter said, just as softly, to make sure Rupp couldn't hear him. Peter remembered quite well the look on Elmer Rupp's face when they'd come up on him in the dark. "I've been scared. I know how he felt."

"Next time, you hide _behind_ me, okay?"

"Only if you're in your suit."

Pepper watched them, torn between amusement that the two were butting heads – even though it wasn't too serious, although the topic _was_ – and annoyance that Peter wasn't as upset about being shot by the man as she was. Forgiveness was a good thing, and she had had plenty of practice with _Tony_ , but she was very much aware that Elmer Rupp could have taken someone from her that she was only just beginning to get to know – accident or not – someone that she loved very much. It was hard for her to deal with that realization, although she was trying to hide that, from Tony and now from Peter.

It wasn't easy.


	30. Chapter 30

"You're supposed to eat dinner _before_ you have dessert."

Peter nodded, smiling at Natasha, who had come to the table to join the others rather than sit on the sofa with Bruce – who had fallen asleep in the short time since Peter had woken. The boy had finished off the piece of pie – which was some kind of chocolate mousse and had been incredible and now he was scraping the last vestiges of chocolate from the small plate with his fork.

"It's good pie, though. And I didn't want to risk spoiling dessert with dinner."

"Dinner will not spoil anything," Pepper assured him, pretending to be indignant at the suggestion. "Just for that, I'll make you a special platter of liver and onions."

"Ugh."

Romanoff touched his forehead.

"How do you feel?" she asked. "Tired?"

"Yeah."

"That's normal, though, right Stephen?"

"Yes."

"I've been sleeping all _day_ ," he pointed out.

"It's good for you," Strange told him. "I'd suggest another nap before dinner."

"Especially since Ned and MJ are both sleeping, too. Maybe you'll feel up to playing with your new chess set later," Pepper told him.

Peter shrugged, tempted because he _was_ tired, but somewhat rebellious at the thought of being sent to bed. And aware that sleeping on the couch was forcing them to hang out in the dining room instead of the living room in front of the roaring fire which was a lot more comfortable. Even though part of him reminded himself that they couldn't play cards on the coffee table as easily as they could at the dining room table, so it wasn't that much of a hardship.

"I'm okay."

Stark shook his head.

"You look ready to fall asleep any minute."

"No, really, I'm okay."

Tony wasn't convinced, but he wasn't going to press the issue and potentially embarrass Peter. He didn't need to. Instead, he and the others returned to their card game, while Natasha and Peter watched. He had his head resting in one hand, the elbow on the table bracing himself upright. She was sitting in the chair beside his, her arm resting on the back of his chair and her fingers running lightly through his hair, simply relaxing with the people that she loved the most in the world. And Elmer Rupp, who she didn't know and certainly wasn't ready to trust any time soon.

The others played their cards and watched with differing degrees of amusement as Natasha's touch did what it always did with Peter. She soothed him. He closed his eyes, eventually, rested his head on his arms on the table and fell asleep.

"Tony, you and Stephen can put him our bed for now," Pepper told them. "Don't hurt him and try not to wake him – if you can."

"Yes, dear."

Strange didn't argue about being ordered around. Even a master of the mystic arts knew when to keep his mouth shut and simply smile and nod. The two men got up, carefully lifted the sleeping boy between them and carried him to the bedroom just off the living room.

Elmer watched them go and shook his head, reaching for the cards.

"We don't get as much news out in Boise as you guys do, I'm sure, but I read about his adoption in the paper. I remember my wife mentioning that it had to be the best thing in the world for a kid to live full time with the Avengers. And then we read that someone tried kidnapping him. He seems to be adjusting amazingly well for such upheaval."

"He _is_ ," Pepper agreed. "It helps that he's a good kid."

"Yeah. I can see that."

Natasha turned her attention from where Stark and Stephen had vanished with Peter and looked at Elmer. Her expression was completely unreadable – even to Pepper, who knew her as well as anyone, and had known her as long as anyone other than Nick Fury.

"The kidnappers are all dead."

Pepper felt an atavistic thrill go through her at that not so subtle sentence; a mixture of approval that Natasha was so willing to remind Rupp just who he was dealing with and glee that Peter had someone so dangerous watching out for him – even when he wasn't actually right there. She also felt a little relieved that Romanoff still didn't trust Rupp, because Peter clearly wanted to – and badly.

Many men a lot crazier and more powerful than Elmer Rupp had quailed before that look, much less the tone of voice. He caught the warning immediately and was well aware that there was only one reply.

"I've already done worse to him than I've done to anyone in my life, Ms. Romanoff. He doesn't ever have to be afraid of me."

Pepper tossed a look Natasha's way, but the assassin ignored her, her gaze only for the man in front of her. Elmer felt that she was looking into his very soul with that intense stare and was sure he knew what a mouse felt like when cornered by a hungry cat. She finally nodded, and Pepper thought she saw a flicker of surprise on Natasha's expression before it went cold and unreadable once more.

"As long as we understand each other."

"We do," he assured her.

"Good."

OOOOOOOOO

They put him on his side in the large bed in the master suite. He roused, briefly, giving a whimper of pain as Tony pulled the blankets back and then Stephen tucked pillows in the front and back of him to keep him from rolling and jarring himself awake. While they had the boy in the right position, Strange took the opportunity to pull the bandage back and make sure the wound wasn't infecting. Both men saw that it was red and raw, but Strange made an approving noise when he put the bandage back and pulled the waistband of the lounge pants Peter was wearing back up and over the bandaged area.

"How does it look, Stephen?"

"Better than I expected. He heals quickly, we already knew that, but it looks good. I don't think we need to worry about infection, so we'll cut the antibiotics."

"What about the painkillers? He obviously still hurts."

"No. At least, not the stuff I've _been_ giving him. It's too strong to use for any extended duration of time. We'll stick with the over the counter pain pills and monitor how that helps. I'll adjust as needed."

"You're sure? I don't want him suffering."

"He lives with you, Tony," Stephen pointed out. "He's _already_ suffering."

Stark smiled, knowing that Strange wouldn't be getting his digs in if he was worried about Peter. Before he could respond with an equally sarcastic quip, Peter shifted in the bed, opening his eyes but not lifting his head.

"Tony?"

Instantly the billionaire was leaning over the boy, his hand on his cheek, while the other hand pulled the blankets up to be tucked around the pillows.

"Yeah, Peter. I'm here."

At the touch, Peter closed his eyes.

"I'm not _tired_ …"

"I know."

"Is it still snowing?"

"Yeah."

"I want to go sledding."

"Later."

"You'll come?"

"Yeah. So will Stephen. _Later_."

Strange rolled his eyes, but didn't argue with that, either.

"Okay."

"Go to sleep, Peter."

"I'm not tired," he repeated, stubbornly, his voice fading as he started to drift off. "I want…"

Stark's expression was one that Strange knew was reserved only for Peter and Pepper, and he watched as Tony leaned over and pressed his cheek against the boy's for the briefest of moments. They made sure that Peter was sleeping peacefully and then headed for the door to the suite. Stark turned off the lights and turned up the thermostat, but they didn't close the door – just in case Peter needed anything.

"We could get him a bell…" Stephen suggested, amused, as they walked into the living room. "He could ring it and you could come running."

Tony grinned at that, and shook his head.

"He has a _watch_. That's much less annoying."


	31. Chapter 31

_A/N Between the upcoming holiday and the crazy work schedule – as well as a meeting with the surgeon about my ankle this coming week, the chapters might be a little erratic, but I'm still here._

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dinner was a busy affair. As usual, Stephen and Pepper cooked. It wasn't anything incredibly fancy; stew, fresh bread and pasta salad for anyone who wanted it, but there was plenty to go around and it was a good meal to end their first official day being snowed in.

"Should we wake Peter up to eat?" Ned asked Pepper as he started clearing dishes to take them into the kitchen where Clint and Bruce had offered to do the dishes.

"No," Strange replied, buttering a final bread roll. "I want him to sleep through the night, if we can make it happen. We'll feed him a big breakfast to make up for it and then see about getting him on his feet for a little while – or at least a bit more upright."

"Aren't you worried about him sleepwalking?" MJ asked.

"Not really." Strange wasn't used to being challenged by a 15-year-old girl and it showed. "As much as he hurts right now, if he tried to get out of bed, he'd most likely wake himself before he managed to get his feet under him."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue. Instead, she helped clear the table as well, then everyone but the dish washers gathered around the freshly cleared table and pulled out board games, since no one was really in the mood to go outside and get cold – at least for the rest of the evening. They played Clue a couple of times and then when Clint and Bruce joined them they switched to Scattegories which was made for a bigger crowd of players.

It wasn't the most active of evenings, but they all had a good time. Elmer took some photos of them, showing Ned his camera equipment when the boy showed an interest, and then showing him more of the photos that he'd taken, both before and after being found out in the woods half frozen by Peter and Tony. They broke up into smaller groups, then, as the evening wore down. Ned and Elmer, and somewhat surprisingly, Natasha, looked through his photos at the dining room table. Strange and Clint played chess, while MJ, Bruce and Steve turned their attention to playing the 3-D chess game – although Steve left several times to take Jack outside or tussle with the puppy to keep him distracted and out of mischief.

Tony and Pepper excused themselves to go into their room and check on Peter. When they'd found him still asleep in the same position that Tony and Stephen had left him, it had been too tempting to resist joining him, and the two had done just that. Closing the door and turning off the light, they had cuddled up against either side of the boy, leaving the pillows where they were to avoid jarring him, and maybe waking him, and had simply spent the rest of the evening talking about little things in a soft murmur that didn't disturb Peter.

Eventually, they drifted off, and the others also started looking for their beds as well. Elmer took the couch instead of the floor, and Strange wasn't the only one to raise an eyebrow when Natasha had found him an extra blanket in a closet – just in case it grew chilly once the fire died.

"Is it my imagination, or have you had a sudden change of heart regarding Elmer?" he asked Natasha as they were getting ready for bed a short time later.

She shrugged.

"It's not your imagination."

"Really?" He'd expected her to give him a look that would freeze time quicker than any gem he could ever wield, and then deny it. "What happened? I was under the impression he was fairly far down on your naughty and nice list – for obvious reasons."

"He was," she agreed.

"But…?"

Romanoff hesitated, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Have you ever been in anyone's head? Not with a mind game kind of thing, but with some spell or something? Have you ever actually seen and heard another person's thoughts? What they think? Or feel?"

"No. I can read people fairly well and assume I know what they're thinking, but I can't say that I have heard someone else's thoughts."

"I _did_ ," Natasha told him. "While you were with Tony putting Peter to bed earlier, Pepper and I were talking to Rupp about Peter – and I basically threatened him if he were to do anything to Peter."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I wanted to be perfectly clear about his expected behavior while we're snowed in – and it was a good opportunity to address it. And then, he's telling me that Peter has no reason to ever fear him – that he'd already basically done worse to him than he's ever done to anyone before."

"Which is probably true. The man seems like your ordinary family man and not a psychopath running around the woods."

"As he was telling me that, I suddenly had a flash of what looked like a memory – and not my own."

"What kind of memory?"

"Being cold. Scared. Sitting in the dark in front of a tiny fire listening to terrifying night sounds until someone snapped a tree branch or something right outside my line of vision and reacting automatically because the first thing to flash through the thought was a pack of wolves or a mountain lion. And immediate concern and anguish upon seeing the bloodstain spreading on Peter's jeans."

"You saw _Elmer's_ memory?"

"Had to be his," she said. "It was only a flash – it didn't take as long as it did for me to describe it – but I know it wasn't mine."

"You're intelligent enough that I don't need to ask if you think you were imagining it, so I'll assume it actually happened. That sudden flash of insight made you believe that he's not a danger to Peter?"

"It made me believe that he's genuine about his remorse that he shot Peter and that he's not some kind of plant for someone who was looking to be 'rescued' and get an in with us – and with Peter."

He was surprised.

"You considered that possibility? It's a snowstorm. People can't control the weather."

"No. But they can take advantage of it. And yes, I considered it a possibility. Maybe not a completely realistic possibility, but there's always a chance. I consider every possibility before I dismiss any out of hand. It's what I do."

"Where do you think this vision and sudden insight came from?" he asked her.

"It felt a lot like the dreams I get about Peter wandering where and when he shouldn't be, so I'll say it might have been the Mind stone without having further proof one way or another."

"That's a fair assumption," he agreed. "So we're not worried about Elmer?"

She scowled.

"I didn't say I'm going to invite him to the compound some day for milk and cookies, but I'm not worried that he's going to purposely hurt or do anything _to_ hurt Peter or any of the others."

Which reminded Strange that Natasha Romanoff didn't just worry about Peter Parker's safety. She was always looking for any danger that might be posed to any of the people she felt responsible for. He mentally added himself to that list, although he didn't say anything.

"I suppose it's a good thing the gem stepped forward and shared that. Otherwise it might have made the snowed in business a little more awkward for some."

"Most likely."

"You're an amazing woman," he told her, finally pulling the blankets up over the two of them, ready to get some rest and refresh for whatever may come the next day.

Probably more sledding – although he privately hoped not. He had enjoyed the trip and the weather more than he's anticipated, but he was ready for some time in front of a fire, drinking coffee – or something stronger – and doing nothing for a while.

Natasha cuddled up besides him, clearly in total agreement just then.

OOOOOOO

 _A hand on her shoulder woke her._

" _Pepper?"_

 _She smiled, rolling over and already planning to tease him, ready to say that she had a headache. The serious expression she saw looking down at her made the quip die before it could even start. Tony wasn't serious unless he needed to be, and she knew him well enough to understand that about him._

" _What's wrong?"_

" _Don't_ panic _. He's going to be fine. I-"_

 _She sat up in their bed, immediately panicked._

" _Peter?"_

" _Yeah."_

 _A surge of panic went through her and she pushed the blankets aside. Tony caught her hand, though, holding her in place for the moment. She allowed it, but knew he'd better do some fast talking._

" _What happened?"_

" _We went out," Tony told her. "He was restless – had to be feeling something was wrong – because he pretty much knew exactly where to go."_

" _And? Tony, this isn't the time to make a short story into a long one."_

" _We found a guy lost in the woods. A photographer who was turned around and pretty much freezing to death."_

" _Is he here, then? What does that have to do with-"_

" _He had a gun and panicked when I stepped into view, thinking that we were wolves or something and the gun went off."_

" _Oh my God. Tell me the bullet didn't hit Peter."_

" _Not directly. He knew it was coming, and tried to push me out of the way. The bullet hit me, - my suit - then ricocheted and grazed his hip. Stephen's taking care of it, now."_

" _He was_ shot _?"_

"Grazed _."_

 _She bolted out of the bed, stopping only long enough to grab a robe and tie it on as she went into the living room. A small crowd was gathered around the sofa. Natasha, Stephen and a man she didn't recognize. Strange saw her coming and held his finger in front of his lips to indicate that he didn't want her making too much noise and she realized Peter was asleep. Or unconscious – but probably not worse._

" _Stephen?"_

" _He's fine, Pepper. Or he's going to be, anyway. It's shallow, although it'll hurt a bit. I've cleaned the wound and given him antibiotics and a fairly potent painkiller. Which is why he's asleep."_

 _She looked at the boy on the sofa, leaning against Natasha's side. Her boy, as far as she was concerned. He was pale and even asleep looked like he was in pain. Pepper stepped forward and carefully brushed her fingers along his cheek, but he didn't respond._

" _DO we take him to a hospital?"_

" _It's not so serious that we can't take care of him right here," Strange assured her. "He's going to be fine."_

" _You're certain?"_

" _Absolutely."_

" _Honey? This is Elmer Rupp."_

 _She drew her attention from Peter and turned to the man who was standing next to Tony, now, by the fireplace. The man who shot Peter. Who had almost taken him away from her. From them. She couldn't even imagine how Tony would have reacted to losing the boy. She couldn't imagine how_ she _would have reacted. A wave of fury, and then fear, rushed through her, and she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, when he spoke, first._

" _I'm truly sorry," the man told her, sincerely, looking from her pale face to Peter's and back. "I thought they were wolves – or something. I didn't know that there was anyone out looking for me, or I would have been calling for help and might have heard them coming."_

 _She stirred, restlessly, thinking to herself that so much had already happened to Peter. Things that she couldn't protect him from. This had been something that shouldn't have happened. Not that she didn't understand how it happened, now, and she was sure that Elmer Rupp was sorry. He'd spent a lot of time telling her that he was. She thought she should hide Peter somewhere. Somewhere that he wouldn't be hurt. Under a lounge chair back at the compound? Or in the sanctum? Stephen and Wong didn't let anyone else in the sanctum. No one could hurt Peter, there. But she couldn't stay there, and that wasn't an option. She needed to be there for Peter._

 _She started to move. Uncertain where to take him, but definitely planning on gathering him – and Tony – and taking her family someplace safe._

An arm came over her side, holding her fast.

"I'm here…" came a sleepy voice that she didn't need to open her eyes to know belonged to Peter.

She woke, then, abruptly, from the disturbing dream and looked at the boy. He wasn't awake, and sometime in the night had lost one of the pillows propping him on his side. Now he was pressed against her side, instead, and his arm was holding her. Cuddling her to his side. Reassuring her when she had no idea how he'd even known she needed it.

Without moving from his grip, Pepper pulled the blankets back up over them, and risked waking him by settling her hand on his side, above the bandages that protected his hip.

"Pepper…?"

"Shhh," she soothed. "I'm here. Go to sleep, sweetheart."

He mumbled something about not living at the sanctum and was still – probably never awake in the first place. Pepper wasn't far behind, too tired to stay awake and worry.


	32. Chapter 32

The next morning when Stephen came down to the kitchen to start coffee, he found Peter sitting more or less upright at the dining room table teaching Pepper and Tony both how to play the 3-D chess game that Natasha had bought him for his birthday. Tony and Pepper both had coffee in front of them and Peter had a cup of hot chocolate. All three looked as if they'd been awake for a while, even though it was still early, and he realized that the coffee he'd smelled coming down hadn't been a figment of his imagination. Even better.

"Good morning," Strange told them, walking up behind Peter to put a hand on his forehead to check for fever while also looking at the board. "How do you feel?"

"A little sore," Peter admitted. "But glad to be up."

"No fever," the doctor said. "That's a good sign."

"Yeah. I don't feel hot."

He knew he felt like when he was fevered, after all.

"Let me get a cup of coffee into me and then I want to change the dressing and check your wound to make sure it's doing what it's supposed to be doing."

Peter looked over at Pepper, who smiled because he'd blushed, and she knew why.

"I'd suggest the bedroom, since we don't know who might wake up and come downstairs at any minute – especially MJ."

Which made Peter redden even more.

"Thanks."

"I'll play nurse," Tony offered, moving one of the chess pieces from an upper tier to a lower one. "I want to see how it's doing."

He and Pepper finished the game under Peter's watchful eye while Stephen drank a cup of coffee and read the paper – which appeared on the table in front of him, and vanished as each section was read. It would be impossible to explain how a paper was delivered to a snowed in cabin, after all.

When the last section was gone and the last of the coffee finished, Strange and Tony got Peter to his feet but Stephen asked the boy to see if he could walk unaided to the master bedroom off the living room. He tried, but by the time he reached the sofa he was forced to hold onto it for support and to give his aching hip a rest. Tony was at his side, immediately, and Strange had never left it, hovering close at hand just in case.

"That wasn't too bad," the doctor told him, as they walked him into the bedroom and closed the door – just as MJ and Ned came stumping down the stairs. "You're going to hurt for a while – the muscle has a little damage and no one really realizes how many different muscles control our stride."

The two men helped him down onto the bed, and Tony watched as the needed medical equipment appeared one by one as Stephen pulled the old bandage off, cleaned the wound and then redressed it with a fresh one. This one was a little thicker, though, Stark noticed. And he had to ask why, figuring there was always a method behind Strange's madness.

"He's probably going to be moving around a little more today," Strange said. "We're definitely better off with a bit more padding – although I'd suggest wearing your pants a little lower on that side if you can without them falling off."

"Yeah."

They helped him get changed into clean sweats, which were a size bigger than normal for looseness, and then into a long sleeved t-shirt and thick, warm socks. Then they walked him back into the dining room table. During the time that they'd been in the bedroom, the table had been filled. Elmer Rupp had woken, MJ and Natasha were playing the 3-D chess set, Steve was feeding Jack – and both had been outside, Peter could tell – Clint and Bruce were playing WAR with a double deck of cards. Ned and Pepper were in the kitchen and they could all smell bacon cooking. Elmer was looking at his camera equipment, flicking through the pictures he'd taken the days before.

All of them smiled cheerfully when they saw Peter walking – with a bit of help – to the table, and Tony and Stephen settled him in the chair between Natasha and Clint. Then Stark went into the kitchen to find coffee and report to Pepper on Peter's progress.

"How do you feel, baby?" Natasha asked, reaching a hand to his forehead.

"I'm okay," he assured her with a smile. "Just a little stiff and sore."

"Ned and Pepper are making us breakfast, _baby_ ," Clint told him, teasing Natasha by mimicking her actions with Peter when he reached out and touched his forehead, too. "You are excused from dish duties thanks to Elmer, here, so Bruce and he are going to do them, instead."

"I could help."

"Not a chance," Strange said, settling himself in a chair between Elmer and MJ. "You're up, but you're not ready to do anything today."

"Can I go outside?"

"Not right now. After breakfast, you can go stand on the porch and look outside for a minute."

"That's it?"

"You won't want to be out longer than that," he assured him.

"I want to go sledding, though."

"Nope." Before Peter could protest, Strange raised a hand to stop him. "Wait until you go outside," he said. "You'll understand. I can pretty much guarantee that you're not going to want to sled today."

Peter looked just a little rebellious, but the doctor certainly looked like he was sure of what he was saying, and Peter wasn't up to forcing a challenge just then, anyway.

"Want to play WAR with us, Peter?" Bruce offered.

"He's just asking because he's losing," Clint said.

"He's only saying that because it's true," Banner admitted.

"Peter doesn't win many card games," MJ explained to Elmer. "He's not very good at cards."

"Except _Spoons_ ," Steve said. "He's pretty good at Spoons."

Peter smiled at that, and shook his head, declining the invitation to play with Bruce and Clint. But then he looked at Elmer.

"Can I see the pictures you took?"

"Of course." The man slid the whole camera over to him, across the table. "Just hit the little right arrow to go through them. I was looking at the ones I took the day you and Tony found me, but if you go through them, you'll find some from yesterday, too."

Peter was surprised by how heavy the camera was, and hesitated, assuming it was pretty expensive – especially compared to the lower quality ones that all of them were using for their photos. He saw that there were several different lenses in the case that Elmer had opened and decided that they must all fit the camera he was holding, since he didn't see any other cameras. Which also gave the impression that it wasn't a cheap set up.

The small display on the back of the camera was big enough to give Peter a good idea of how each picture had turned out, and while he didn't know anything about photography, he had to admit that the pictures were good. There were a lot of winter shots. The mountains, trees covered in fresh blankets of pristine snow and even a cabin that wasn't the one they were staying in that Peter decided was probably where he'd been staying.

Then he saw some wildlife shots. Elk – males with huge racks of antlers like they'd seen when they'd been out snowshoeing the first time, and females who looked just as big, bison covered in snow and seemingly looking right at the camera, and a few of a bald eagle on a tree that was so close that Peter could make out individual feathers and the raptor's wicked beak and talons.

"Wow, these are good," Peter said.

Elmer smiled, and shrugged.

"It's a fun hobby. The lense is good enough that I don't have to get too close to the animals, so it's not very dangerous."

"Did Ned show you the pictures he took of the wolves?" MJ asked, curiously.

"No. I'd like to see them."

"Maybe after you eat," Peter said. "They were eating a deer."

"It's pretty gross," MJ agreed.

"How did you get that shot?" Elmer asked. "I've seen glimpses, and some tracks, but they're good at hiding."

"Dumb luck," Tony answered, coming out of the kitchen carrying a stack of plates that he set down in front of Bruce. "The same way they managed to get out of the area without being seen and turned into dessert."

Peter wasn't the only one to smile at that. He slid the camera carefully back to Rupp, who put it in the case while Bruce and Clint ended their card game and started setting the table, and Tony went back into the kitchen to get cutlery and glasses. MJ and Natasha ended their chess game as well and put the pieces back into the box before removing it from the table to make room for breakfast.

"I'll have Ned show it to you later," Peter promised. "You should see if Pepper has the one that Dr. Strange took at the lake where we were camping, too. It's good."

Good enough that Pepper had a print of it hanging in her office at the tower and Peter had one in his room.

Tony and Ned appeared from the kitchen, then, and brought pitchers of orange juice, milk and a pot of coffee and set them on the table before vanishing once more, only to return with a stack of bowls and a pot of oatmeal, a platter that held bacon and toast and a bowl of scrambled eggs. Pepper followed, brushed a hand along Peter's shoulder as she walked around the table to find a spot next to Tony, and everyone fell to eating with hearty appetites.

"The snow was packing when I took Jack out," Steve reported to MJ and Ned, especially. "Might be able to build that igloo you're wanting to try."

Peter looked out the closest window and saw that it was still snowing.

"Maybe I can help."

"You can _supervise_ ," Pepper told him, firmly.

He sighed.


	33. Chapter 33

It was Tony who steadied Peter and helped him get bundled into snow clothes once they were done eating. Ned and MJ were much quicker, of course, and were already outside with Steve and Clint – and Jack. He could hear them laughing on the other side of the door as he leaned on Tony to rest for just a moment once the snow pants were on and his coat was on, although not yet zipped.

"Are you okay?" Pepper asked, standing close by in case she was needed.

She was wearing her snow boots and her coat, but she had no intention of playing in the snow and didn't think she needed anything other than what she was already wearing.

"Yeah. I just need a second."

"There's no hurry," Tony assured him, staying close enough for Peter to continue leaning against and also getting his boots in position for the boy to slide his feet into them. "It's not like we're going anywhere."

Pepper stepped up and offered Peter a shoulder to balance himself as he stamped his feet carefully into the boots and pull on his gloves. Then she zipped the coat for him.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Are you coming, Stephen?" Tony asked.

The doctor was seated on the sofa with Natasha. He had the Avenger book in front of him and she was watching them help Peter, aware that they didn't need three adults to dress one injured teenager.

"No. I'm going to finish this book. I want to see how it ends."

Stark rolled his eyes.

"It ends with the doctor being tossed into a snowbank."

"Not likely."

" _Naked_."

Peter smiled at that threat, but he was eager to go outside – otherwise he could have listened to them verbally spar all day. He reached for the door just as Bruce and Elmer joined them nearby, having finished the dishes and starting to get bundled up as well.

Tony supported Peter with a simple hand under his right arm as they walked out onto the porch, and Pepper stepped up onto his left guiding the boy to the rail so he could lean against it and watch the activities going on in the front of the cabin.

Steve and Ned and MJ all had shovels and were clearing a large area in the snow about 30 feet from the bottom of the stairs leading to the porch. Clint was sitting on the top step of the porch and was pulling the plastic templates for the blocks that they were going to use as blocks for their igloo – or whatever they ended up building if the igloo didn't turn out as planned.

"How's it going, Peter?" Clint asked, smiling up at the boy and fighting down the urge to throw a snowball at him.

"I'm good."

He _was_ , too. It was really cold, but he was well bundled and not feeling it at the moment.

"Going to help play Nanook of the North?"

"No. I only get to supervise."

Pepper smiled and leaned against him at the rail.

"We're clearing the igloo area right now. Then it'll probably take a while to make all the blocks Steve thinks we'll need."

"Tony is willing to help," Pepper volunteered.

Stark rolled his eyes again but nodded.

"When it comes to making bricks. Not shoveling the clearing."

"They have that covered," Clint told him, gesturing to the three shoveling the snow and piling it to the side for use later.

The door opened again and Bruce walked out with Rupp. Bruce joined Clint with the blocks, but Rupp stayed on the porch. He was holding his camera and started taking pictures, leaning against the railing of the porch, not too far from where Peter and Pepper were standing with Stark.

"What are you planning on doing with your photos?" Pepper asked, curiously. "Make a book?"

Elmer shook his head.

"I wouldn't dream of it. For one thing, I'd need permission from parents to use any picture of Ned, Peter or MJ since they're minors, and I don't want to bother with that. I thought I'd turn them over to you and see if any were ones you'd like to have. I'm not a _professional_ , but some will turn out pretty good. It's the least I can do. You guys letting me stay with you – and for what happened with Peter."

Pepper forced down a scowl at the ready answer, but Peter smiled.

"Can I try your camera?"

"Sure." Elmer walked over and handed the camera to the boy, who pulled off his gloves to make sure he didn't drop it. "It's pretty forgiving. Just point at your target and push the shutter."

Peter did as he was told, taking a bunch of pictures in only a couple of minutes. The majority were Tony and Pepper – his favorite subjects, of course – and then he switched to taking some of Ned, MJ and Steve. As Jack ran into the camera's angle, he snapped several of the puppy, who was chasing snowballs that Clint was lofting at him.

He didn't keep it long, though, and was looking a little pale when he handed it back to Rupp.

"Thanks. It's pretty nice."

"Yeah. I work a part time night job to pay for all my camera equipment," Elmer told him – and Pepper and Tony, who were also close enough to hear. "That way I can have the really nice stuff and not feel like I'm taking food from my family to do it."

"You have kids?" Stark asked.

"A daughter. Paige. She's five."

"I'm going to go inside," Peter said, giving Elmer an apologetic look for interrupting.

"Are you alright?" Stark asked, immediately.

"My hip hurts."

As Strange had predicted – even though he hadn't actually pointed the possibility out to the boy or his adopted parents – the cold had seeped through Peter's winter clothing and was now centered on his hip, causing a sharp ache that Peter had tried to ignore but finally couldn't. It was almost crippling the way it seemed to affect not only his injury, but also the muscles around his hip.

"I'll help you," Tony offered.

OOOOOOOO

Strange looked up when the door opened and stood up to help Tony bring Peter inside and start pulling the winter clothing off.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would," he told Peter, helping the boy over to the couch to settle him beside Natasha, who tucked a pillow against the inured side. "Open injuries and the cold do not go well together."

Peter closed his eyes, miserable.

"You could have warned me."

"I _tried_. You wanted to go _sledding_."

Sometimes a rebellious teen needed an object lesson, and Strange was as good at handing them out as anyone. He'd been on the receiving end of a _lot_ of them, after all. Even when it was someone like Peter, who he was truly fond of. Now he was sure he wouldn't have to listen to any complaining whenever he made a suggestion about the treatment of Peter's injury. From the boy, or from _Tony_ , most likely. He suddenly had a blanket in his hands, one that was so warm it was almost too hot to hold, and he draped over Peter, tucking it carefully against the injured side especially.

"It'll stop hurting so bad once you warm up," he promised.

He wasn't a monster, after all.

Peter felt the warmth seeping through the fabric of the sweats he was wearing, and the pain receded almost immediately from unbearable to just agonizing.

"Thanks."

He'd spend the day inside, instead of watching the others play in the snow. Maybe he'd be better by the next day and could go sledding then.


	34. Chapter 34

Peter spent a fair part of the rest of the morning on the sofa. Miserable even after his hip injury faded into a dull throbbing, he huddled under the blanket Strange had produced for him. The blanket that started out heated and never cooled off, even though it wasn't plugged into anything. He didn't sleep – he wasn't tired, really – but he didn't feel like he was good company, either, and didn't want to annoy anyone by being snippy.

"Does it still hurt?" Natasha asked, lightly stroking his hair and trying to get a conversation out of him.

He'd been so quiet, after all.

"Just a little. I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Really."

"We can try again, later," Tony told him, assuming correctly that it wasn't the fact that his hip hurt that was keeping him quiet, but disappointment that he couldn't go outside and play in the snow with the others.

It was _his_ trip, after all, and now he was being left out.

Peter shook his head.

"It's okay." Lesson learned. _Painfully_ , but thoroughly. He'd wait. "Maybe I'll go to my room for a while."

He didn't want them to worry about him, but he knew he was in a funk all of the sudden and wasn't really sure why. Yes, he couldn't go outside and that wasn't fair, but Peter was well aware that life wasn't fair all the time.

"I'll take you," Strange said, setting the Avenger book that he'd been idly reading aside and standing up.

It didn't show, but the doctor had been watching him carefully since he'd been brought back inside, keeping a close eye on his patient and hadn't missed the boy's gloomy countenance.

"I can walk," Peter told him, not wanting to bother him. "It's not that far."

"I don't want you on the stairs. Your wound is starting to close a bit and stepping up – or down – might rip the scabbing and put us back where we started. If I take you before MJ or Elmer come in, we can do it the easy way."

"Okay."

"You have him okay?" Stark asked as Strange assisted Peter to his feet with a hand under his arm.

"Yes. We're fine, Tony."

An instant later both Peter and Strange vanished.

"Think I should go help?" Tony asked Natasha.

"No. Stephen's going to have a talk with Peter, I assume, and it should probably be done in private."

"About what?"

"Why he didn't warn him about just how badly he was going to hurt if he went outside."

"Did _you_ know it would?"

"I've been shot before – and it gets pretty cold where I'm from. I didn't know if it would be the same for Peter, though. I would have warned him. He might not have _listened_."

"Why? He trusts you."

"He's young enough to think he knows everything – and having the abilities that he does only adds to the illusion that he's invincible. He moved to step in front of a bullet, after all. Sometimes we'll have to allow him to learn a lesson the painful way to make sure it's really learned."

"I don't like that."

Romanoff's smile was warm and understanding.

"I know. Which makes it a lesson that _you_ can't teach him – but Stephen can."

OOOOOOOOO

The blanket went with them. Peter set it down on the bed that he was using, but he didn't sit down on the bed with it. Instead, he moved to the window, walking painfully, and looked out. Below, he could see the others working on building what was sort of looking more like a snow fort than an igloo. He couldn't hear what anyone was saying since the windows in the cabin were well insulated.

Strange walked over to stand beside the boy and looked out the window as well.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Are you mad?"

"No. I probably deserved what I got – not listening to you."

"Yes."

"You didn't try very hard to convince me, though."

The accusation was easy to hear in his voice.

"Would you have listened if I had?"

"I don't know."

"You'll listen next time, though, I imagine."

"Yeah. You made your point." But it hurt more than the injury ever could to feel that Strange had betrayed him. He'd thought the doctor liked him. "You could have tried harder."

" _Probably_. I can be a bit egotistical, sometimes. When I'm right, I like to _prove_ that I'm right. Sometimes at the expense of others. You _wouldn't_ have listened, though. And Tony would have backed you. Then, when you found out that I was right, he'd have felt guilty for allowing you to do something to hurt yourself."

Peter was silent for a moment, digesting that as probable truth. Then he sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window.

"I just want to go outside."

"It'll close in a couple of days," Strange assured him. "You heal quickly, we already know that. When it does, then you can be outside, too – in a limited capacity."

"We might not be snowed in, then."

"True enough. I hope we're _not_ , to be honest. This place is lovely, but it isn't home."

"I know."

"I miss my bed."

"Me, too. And I'm probably getting behind on homework, again."

"I would assume Ned and MJ are, as well. Your teachers will understand."

"Yeah."

Strange put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Do what I tell you and we'll see how it looks tomorrow evening, alright?"

"Okay."

"Are you going to sit up here and brood?"

"Probably," Peter admitted.

"Do you want company?"

"I'm not good company when I'm pouting."

It didn't happen often, but even May had commented on it with an amused smile the few times that he'd raised his rebellious side.

"I could probably find someone that could deal with you at your worst."

"I doubt it."

Strange turned from the window and made a circular motion with one hand, and a portal formed in the middle of the bedroom. The destination was clearly the 3rd floor library at the sanctum, and there was a slight pause, but suddenly a heavy piece of fabric was soaring through the portal and instantly wrapping itself around the boy's head, shoulders and neck, crooning happily in his mind.

Peter smiled, cheered instantly. It was hard to brood when something was so genuinely happy to see you, after all.

"It can't _stay_ ," Strange told him. "MJ knows it's special, but I don't want to deal with Elmer's reaction. If it doesn't want to _go_ , it would have to stay in your room where Rupp won't go."

"I'll let it decide," Peter assured him, walking over, painfully and sitting down on the bed, his side hurting too much to stay on his feet any longer – and his balance thrown off as usual by the heavy fabric cuddling up to him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Stephen smiled at the way the cloak was loving up to Peter – although it was avoiding his hip, completely, obviously knowing about the boy's injury. "If you need anything, call me – or Tony. And don't you dare try coming down the stairs on your own. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good."

The lesson was still learned, then. That could only be a good thing.

Strange left the boy's room and walked down the hall and then down the staircase to the living room. He could have transferred himself, he saw. Pepper was the only addition to the group since he'd left. She was sitting on the sofa beside Stark, sipping a cup of coffee and obviously chilled from being outside.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked.

"He's fine," the doctor assured him. _Them_. "He'll call when he's ready to come down."

Stark hesitated, and then decided that if Peter needed anything, he would let him know.

"Cards?"

They all nodded.


	35. Chapter 35

Despite not being tired, Peter ended up falling asleep in his bed. It almost certainly had everything to do with the Cloak of Levitation first humming cheerfully into his mind until he was over being upset, and then switching to a lullaby that soothed him and reminded him of all the other times the ancient relic had been there for him when he needed a literal security blanket.

He'd stretched out on his side – injured side up – on the heated blanket and the cloak weighed itself down on him from above, sandwiching him in warmth. A pillow kept his head supported and helped avoid a crick in his neck, but the cloak would have been all that he needed just then, really. He was asleep in minutes and hadn't really had a chance. Even better, his sleep was dreamless and restful.

OOOOOOO

"Where did _that_ thing come from?"

Peter woke when he heard Tony's voice, but the cloak was in charge and the humming in his head grew a little louder, although just as soothing – as if it were trying to help him ignore Stark. Which was amusing.

"It's a magical relic, Tony," he heard Strange reply. "It comes from the fabric of the universe. You know that."

"Smart ass. I meant, how did it get _here_?"

"How do any of us arrive at our destinations…?"

"Did you summon it?"

"No. But I might have opened a portal to the sanctum to bring it here."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Because it missed Peter, and I would have had to deal with it moping when I returned. This way I don't."

"And because Peter needed its company to put him to sleep…"

"Of course not."

"You old _softie_ … Just for that, I won't toss you into a snowbank later."

There was an undignified snort.

"As if you _could_."

The challenge was there. The gauntlet had been thrown, but while Tony never backed from a contest – and was genuinely interested to know if he could – they had other things to worry about just then.

"Do we wake him?"

"I'm awake," Peter told him, not lifting his head from the pillow and not opening his eyes, yet.

"Are you hungry?" Tony asked, sitting on the edge of Peter's bed and resting a hand on his cheek.

The boy was a little warm, suddenly, but didn't look fevered. He assumed it was the side effect of being with the cloak rather than anything medical.

"Yes."

"Ready to get up?"

The cloak grumbled in his head, a little annoyed – probably not quite ready to relinquish its hold on Peter just yet, since it hadn't seen him in a while. He smiled at the instant agreement emanating from the relic.

"Not yet. Is everyone still outside?"

"No, they've come in for lunch and asked about you."

"Apparently their igloo collapsed, and they have to start over after lunch," Strange added.

"Can I stay here for a while?" Peter asked.

He was warm, and comfortable. And he didn't want to hear the cloak grumbling petulantly in his head while trying to eat.

"Because you don't feel well enough to get up?" Stephen asked, and this time it was _his_ hand that reached down to brush against Peter's forehead and cheek. "Or because a magical voice in your head is complaining about the idea of you moving before it's ready for you to move?"

"The second one," he admitted. "And maybe a touch of the first."

He didn't really want to hurt and moving _hurt_.

"It won't hurt to spend a little time in bed," the doctor said. "But we'll want you downstairs for dinner – to keep everyone from worrying."

"Okay."

"Good."

"What do you want for lunch?" Strange asked him.

"Anything."

A tray with a burger and fries appeared. Along with a pitcher of water on the stand by his bed and a glass.

"Make sure you keep hydrated."

Obviously, he hadn't missed the incipient fever, Tony decided with approval.

"Okay."

"Don't go back to sleep until you eat something," Stark said, getting up.

"I won't."

"I _mean_ it."

"I _know_."

To prove he wasn't going to do just that, he pushed himself upright, wincing as his hip reminded him it liked holding still. The cloak crooned in his mind and moved itself out of his way, only to settle over his shoulders when he was finally sitting up.

"Do you need anything else?" Tony asked.

"No. Thank you guys."

The two men left, closing the door behind him and walking toward the staircase.

"Bringing him a cuddle buddy from home isn't overindulging him?" Stark asked, amused.

"Of course not," Strange replied. "It's self-serving. The cloak wanted to be here and now it's here. It'll remember that I brought it. Even though it doesn't communicate with me the direct way that it does with Peter, it can still make its annoyances known – and now I won't have to deal with that."

"Riiiight…"

"I'm serious."

"And you didn't do it to make _Peter_ feel better?"

"Of course not. I'm hardly going to start indulging the boy, now, after all."

"You are a liar face," Stark accused. "A liar liar pants on fire face. I can't believe those jeans of yours aren't combusting even as we speak…"

"Tony…"

"Seriously. Wait until I tell Romanoff. She's going to-"

"I'm going to throw you into a snowbank," Stephen interrupted. "I swear I will."

"Bring it on, doctor," was Stark's reply, amused. "Just remember. Everyone in the place knows that _I'm_ Ironman. Some of them might freak out if I suddenly vanished through a portal and ended up in the snow. That gives the advantage to me."

Strange scowled. Good point.

"Next time."

Tony grinned, aware that he'd won that round, and he was still smiling when they reached the bottom of the staircase, which told anyone looking that he wasn't worried about Peter, and that they didn't need to, either.

OOOOOOO

He was just finishing his lunch when there was a tap on the door, The cloak, in his mind and aware that not everyone in the cabin knew it was magical gave an annoyed grumble and went limp on his shoulders, playing stupid rug instead of magical relic.

"Come in," Peter called, smiling at the relic's antics.

Pepper peeked around the now open door.

"Are you decent?"

He nodded.

"Just eating."

She closed the door behind her and the cloak came alive, again, rubbing his hear and ears, cheerfully. Pepper was surprised to see it, but not at all annoyed. She knew Peter liked the cloak and that it liked him as well. Which was fine with her, since she also knew that the thing was quite capable of protecting Peter to a certain extent. And he'd told her more than once that it was good company.

She came over to his bed and sat beside him, her hand coming to his cheek. The cloak reached out with a corner of fabric and brushed her hand but didn't slap it away as it might have were it in the jealous mood and unwilling to share Peter's attentions.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, Pepper. Just a little sore."

"That's what Tony said. The cold air didn't help, huh?"

Peter shook his head, ruefully.

"No. Doctor Strange said we might look at it tomorrow night and give it another try."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

He smiled and set his tray aside and carefully moved to close the space between the two of them, so he could press against her side. She automatically put her arms around him, cloak and all, and rested her chin on his head with a soothing noise.

"Don't be," he said, sincerely. "I'm okay. It's not like there isn't plenty to do inside, and it's only another day or two The way it's snowing, I might still be able to make another sledding run before we get out of here."

"You're sure you're alright?"

"Yeah."

"And you don't hurt too much? I can make Stephen give you another shot or something."

"No. I feel okay – and the painkillers make me fuzzy, which I don't really like. I'll come down for dinner."

"Do you need anything right now?"

"Do you mind staying?" he asked, an arm going around her, now, and the cloak crooning in his head, cheerfully. "Just for a little while?"

She smiled, even though he couldn't see it, and nodded – which he felt. Her embrace tightened just a little.

"I think that could be arranged."

He was one of her favorite guys, after all. Of course she could spend some time with him.


	36. Chapter 36

Peter hadn't intended to sleep any more that day. He'd already had a fairly restful nap, after all. He was injured, though, and as always, his body took advantage of him being still to use the energy to replenish and recover. Pepper held him until she realized that he'd fallen asleep, then had held him a little longer before she settled him carefully back onto the bed. She'd reached for a blanket, but the cloak shooed her out of the way and draped itself over the boy, tucking itself around Peter even more thoroughly than Pepper could have.

She'd smiled, leaned over and brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek before picking up his tray and taking it with her, closing the door quietly behind her as she left him to his nap.

"How's he doing?" Tony asked, sitting on the sofa with the remote in his hand and a movie playing on the TV above the fireplace.

Jack was sleeping next to him, his head resting in Stark's lap, drool soaking Tony's leg as the puppy dreamed of something that must have been fairly delicious.

Pepper settled herself on the other side, resting her hand on his though and her head on his shoulder.

"He fell asleep. Where's Stephen?"

Stark smirked.

"Natasha made him go outside with her. He's either making blocks for the igloo 2.0 or he is snowshoeing."

"And _you_ didn't go?"

"I offered to puppy sit so Steve could go snowshoeing, as well."

She smiled at the sleeping lab.

"Tough job."

"Why do you think I offered?"

"You're _lazy_ ," she accused him.

He put his arm around her but was careful not to dislodge the puppy.

"I know. Want to watch a movie with me? You could always go make snow bricks."

She shook her head.

"I think I'll pass – for now."

OOOOOOO

It was Ned who helped Tony get Peter down the stairs for dinner much later. He'd gone up with Strange and Tony, drenched and needing to change into dry clothes since he was pretty much done playing in the snow. The boy had been excited to see the cloak covering Peter, but he'd held back, getting changed while Strange woke Peter and then checked the gunshot wound before letting him sit up.

"How do you feel?" He'd asked.

"I'm okay."

"Does it hurt?" Ned asked.

"A little."

It always hurt.

"Can I see it?"

Stark rolled his eyes, but Peter understood completely, and smiled.

"Yeah."

Before Stephen could change the bandage, Ned peeked at the crease that ran along Peter's hip. It was still red, but not even close to as raw as it had been when it had happened.

"Wicked."

"No photos, though," Tony told him.

"Right."

Ned finished changing about the same time that Strange finished applying the new bandage and then looked at Peter.

"Does the cloak want to go home, or play dumb blanket?"

Peter shrugged. That wasn't a yes or no question and the relic couldn't answer it. He looked at it.

"Do you want to go home?"

There was an affirmation.

"Can it come back later?" Ned asked.

"If it wants." Strange looked at Tony. "I'm going to take it back to the sanctum and check in with Wong. Do you need anything while I'm gone?"

"No, we're good. Ned can help me get Peter down the stairs. If anyone asks, I'll tell them you're in the shower or something. You might come down with your hair wet."

Strange nodded. The cloak caressed Peter's cheek very briefly and then transferred to the doctor's collar. A moment later they were gone.

"Ready?" Ned asked Peter, offering him an arm to help him to his feet with the least amount of exertion possible.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Peter didn't have to put any weight on his sore hip. Suspended between Tony and Ned – who were both taller than he was – his feet never touched a step, and they practically carried him down the stairs, through the living room and to the dining room table. Natasha, Steve, Elmer, Bruce and MJ were all sitting around the table. They were playing UNO, but Peter shook his head when Tony helped settle him in a chair next to Natasha but close to the entrance to the kitchen. He wasn't interested in joining in their card game.

He looked over and saw that Pepper and Clint were next to the oven and the cabin smelled like a giant hamburger – only with a slight onion tinge to it. Pepper looked over and saw him, said something softly to Clint and then she walked over to the table, while Ned went into the kitchen.

"It's good to see you up," she told him, hugging him from behind and resting her chin on the top of his head for a moment, watching Tony settle next to Peter with the chess board in his hands. "How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, thanks."

"He's going to be feeling down trod and beaten in a minute," Tony told her, winking at Peter. "Because I'm going to steamroll him in chess while we wait for dinner."

"Do _not_ let him goad you into betting anything, Peter," Pepper told him, pulling his head back with her hand and kissing his forehead – frowning because he felt warm. "He'll _lose_ , and I'll have to listen to him whine about you cheating or something."

Peter smiled, but Tony shooed her away.

"Don't listen to her, Peter. We can bet. I'm feeling pretty lucky."

Ned walked over and sat in the chair beside Peter, watching with interest and excitement.

"Bet him that he has to do a snowball fight with us if he loses, Peter."

Stark scowled.

" _You're_ not helping, young man."

Which, of course, only made Ned grin.

"You're not _chicken_ are you, Mr. Stark?"

Which was all it took, of course. Pepper rolled her eyes and thumped Ned's head in mock irritation as she went over and sat down beside Tony.

"Of course I'm not chicken," Stark said. "I'll bet any _thing_. Any _time_."

"Clearly," Clint said, walking out of the kitchen, a dishtowel over his shoulder. "You lost the jet, once, as I recall."

"I got it back." Stark shrugged. "Peter doesn't have anything to bet, right now. He can't reciprocate with the snowball fight thing. Stephen wouldn't let him."

"If he loses, I'll do dishes tonight instead of you," Ned offered.

"Done."

OOOOOO

"Tell me again why we aren't playing _cards_?"

Pepper smiled, laying a consoling arm over Tony's shoulder.

"Because Peter isn't good at cards – and is smart enough to admit it."

"Did you just call me dumb?"

"Of course not, dear." She winked over at Peter, who was collecting his pieces from the board to put them back in their box. Tony's pieces were almost all on the side of the board. "Dinner's ready. Why don't you get the troops rallied to set the table for us?"

Ned had been congratulating Peter on his win, but he stood up.

"I'll help."

Peter started to move, automatically, but Stephen put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The doctor had joined them about twenty minutes after Peter had been challenged by Stark, his hair wet and wearing clean jeans and a sweater.

"They don't need your help," he told the boy. "Wait until you're a little healthier before you try anything too physical."

Peter nodded but felt pretty useless while he watched the others clearing the table and then pulling out plates, cutlery and glasses. Pepper and Clint vanished into the kitchen and returned with a huge pan of meatloaf. Along with it was a bowl of mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and bread. The table fell silent as everyone started eating, hungrily. Most of them because they'd been out playing in the snow all day, the others because it was too good not to eat.

"How does Pepper cook like a chef, and you're worthless in a kitchen?" Strange asked, finally pushing his plate away, satisfied.

"She grew up on a farm," Tony reminded him. "They don't have take out."

The doctor looked over at Pepper, who nodded.

"He's not lying. It was learn to cook, or starve."

"What are we going to do tonight?" Ned asked, cheerfully. He was quite aware of the fact that he should be home, working on homework on a school night and instead was hanging out with the Avengers, Peter and MJ. And Elmer, of course. "After Mr. Stark does _dishes_ , I mean?"

Stark scowled, and pretended to take a swipe at the boy, who ducked with a grin.

"I'm ready to stay inside," Steve admitted, leaning down to pet his puppy, who was watching them eat meatloaf with interest. "Movies, or board games or something quiet as far as I'm concerned."

There was a lot of agreement to that. Of course, for the most part, they had all been pretty active that day, and were ready to wind down a while. Peter hadn't done more than sleep, but he was in complete agreement, too. Sitting like he was had stiffened his hip and he was ready to sit on the couch – or in a beanbag chair. When Tony was done with the dishes.

He would keep him company, first, even if he was just sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen.


	37. Chapter 37

While the others got together to decide what activities they wanted to do that evening, Peter hobbled to the kitchen and sat himself gingerly on one of the stools in the kitchen to spend time with Tony – who happened to be doing dished with Elmer. Stark fussed over him for a moment and reassured himself that the boy was okay where he was, reminded him not to linger if his hip started bothering him, and then started rinsing dishes as Rupp delivered them to the sink in neat stacks.

"What's Idaho like?" Peter asked, curiously, after watching the two men.

"It's really pretty," Rupp told him. "Like it is here – although the mountains here are more impressive, for the most part. You ever seen the movie _Dante's Peak_?"

"Yeah."

Of course he had, Tony thought – but didn't say aloud.

"That was filmed in Idaho. No volcano, but the scenery isn't CGI."

"Wow. Did you ever meet any of the people in it?"

"No. My job isn't exciting enough to put me in the same places that the famous folk go."

Peter smiled.

"Your _hobbies_ are, though."

When Rupp and Stark both looked at him, curiously, Peter shrugged.

"You're doing dishes with _Tony_. He's pretty famous, right?"

The Idahoan nodded and then shrugged.

"I didn't think about that, but you're definitely right."

"Not that doing _dishes_ is all that exciting," Peter conceded. "But it doesn't matter to me what I'm doing – just who I'm doing it with."

"That's a good attitude to have, Peter," Elmer told him. "It must be pretty exciting, though, living with Ironman and the Avengers."

The boy nodded, and the look he gave Tony made Stark smile and want to pick him up and hug him forever.

"It's amazing," Peter said, sincerely. "I'm really lucky to have him – and _them_."

Stark found he actually had to swallow hard to clear the lump in his throat, suddenly, and he leaned against the sink, turning toward the boy who meant so much to him.

"We feel the same way about you. Don't ever forget that."

They shared a look, and Rupp wished that he could stop breathing to avoid disturbing what was obviously a very personal moment between the two. It was Peter who broke the exchange, though, although he was smiling, still, and there was a hint of moisture in his eyes when he turned from Tony to Rupp.

"What do you do for a living?"

Rupp told him – and Tony – about working at the bank as a security guard and at night sometimes at the gas station. He had a few anecdotes from both jobs that were amusing, and obviously favorites of his to tell from the practiced way he told them. Peter didn't mind if the man had told them a million times before – it was the first time that he'd heard them. He bet that Rupp's wife couldn't say that, though.

By the time dishes had been rinsed and put into the dishwasher, and the meatloaf pan had been scrubbed and set to dry on a rack, Peter was ready to find a softer place to sit. With Tony on one side and Elmer on the other he was helped into the living room and deposited very carefully beside MJ, who was holding Jack in her lap and loving up on the puppy, who was almost asleep after a busy day of wading through the snow chasing snowballs and people. She scooted over just a bit, so he wouldn't jar his hip. Even better, as far as Peter was concerned, she almost automatically reached out and brushed her hand against his forehead – clearly in response to the fact that every time he sat near Pepper, Natasha or even Tony, it was exactly what one of them did. She dropped her hand when she realized what she was doing, but instead of blushing like Peter would have in the same situation, she gave him an ironic smile and a _what can you do_ shrug that made him smile, too.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"Sore?"

"Yeah. A _little_."

Tony settled beside Peter, as well, and it was a good thing that he was turned away from the two teens and toward Pepper, who also had a spot on the couch, because his smile was amused and made Pepper grin, too.

Elmer went to the table to look through the photos that he'd taken, and Natasha was playing cards with Clint, Steve and Bruce. Ned was playing the 3-D chess game with Strange. The two of them at the far end of the sectional, with the doctor on the couch and the boy sitting upright in one of the beanbag chairs, with the coffee table between them. Pepper and MJ had started a movie, and it wasn't such a chick flick that Peter and Tony had to try to find an excuse to be somewhere else.

"Any word on the weather report?" Stephen asked, looking over at Stark once he'd settled himself with Pepper's hand firmly in his own.

"Snow is all I heard," Tony replied. "Friday said something about a mass of cold air coming down from Canada and hitting a warm mass practically right above us. We're just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Who's Friday?" MJ asked.

"She's an AI," Ned answered before Stark or Peter could. "Mr. Stark's work wife."

Pepper snorted, making them all grin, and Stark shook his head, but couldn't deny it.

"When is it going to stop?" Strange asked. "Did Friday tell you _that_?"

"Couple more days, most likely. Getting tired of the company you're keeping?"

"The _company_ is fine," Strange replied with a wink at Ned. "It's the location and temperature that I have complaints about."

"Next time we'll get snowed in on a tropical beach somewhere," Pepper promised him.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

He returned his attention to the game he was learning how to play, and the others went back to their movie.

OOOOOOO

MJ was the first to fall asleep. She hadn't made it through the movie when the active day and the warmth of the fire caught up with her and she ended up leaning somewhat against Peter, who had to bite down a gasp of pain when her hand ended up between them and jarred his hip. He didn't move, to avoid waking her, but he did bite his lower lip and tense up – which made Tony look over to see what was wrong.

The billionaire was torn between amusement and concern. Amusement because of the situation Peter found himself in and concern because he was clearly hurting, even though if not for the wound on that hip, Stark was certain that he would have been blushing a brilliant red and loving every minute of it. He reached over Peter with the hand that wasn't holding Pepper and gently moved MJ's hand back to her lap where Jack's head was propped as well. He managed to do it without waking the girl and potentially embarrassing her, and then winked at Peter – who did blush, then.

Strange and Ned finished their third chess game – Ned was catching on pretty quickly to the dynamics of the game and had beat the doctor all three times. Stephen excused himself to the table to see what Natasha and the guys were doing, and Ned said he was tired and was going to go to bed.

Peter wasn't tired. He'd slept much of the day, after all. He felt Tony fall asleep next to him, though, and Pepper didn't last to the end of the movie, either. Rather than wake any of them, he simply watched the movie through to the end credits and then turned the TV off and sat in the light of the fire.

"They all fell asleep on you?" Steve asked only a few minutes after the movie was finished.

He'd finished the game with the others and had come to collect his puppy.

"Yeah."

Rogers grinned and shook his head and carefully picked up Jack, who woke up and licked his chin. Strange walked over, as well, with Natasha. He didn't have any problem waking any of them, and he did, starting with MJ – who woke just enough to be sent to bed. She didn't argue, only told everyone good night and headed sleepily up the stairs. When he woke Tony, though, Stark didn't bother to wake Pepper. He got up and simply picked her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom, with Natasha going ahead to pull the blankets back.

"We're going to bed," Strange told them. He looked at Peter. "Do you need help getting upstairs?"

"No. I'm not sleepy, yet, thanks."

Natasha returned with Stark. She leaned over and kissed Peter's forehead – taking the opportunity to check for fever – and told him goodnight. When Clint and Bruce decided they were going to bed, too, Peter dragged himself off the couch, so Elmer could have _his_ bed, too, and he and Tony went to sit in the kitchen at the island to share a nightcap, as Tony called it. Coffee for him, hot chocolate for Peter.

"You look better," Tony murmured, reaching a hand to the boy's forehead. "No fever."

"It was only the cloak," Peter reminded him. "I'm not sick."

"Good."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying each other's company and the quiet of the cabin. Peter looked at the snow falling outside the kitchen window.

"You guys aren't worried about missing work?" he asked.

"I'm not missing anything," Stark reminded him. "Pepper's in contact with her people every day and they know how to get in touch if anything happens. She's not stressing this. It's just an extended vacation."

"Did I thank you for bringing me?" Peter asked, facetiously.

"You did."

"It's great."

" _You're_ great."

The boy smiled. He was never going to need a champion in his life, he knew. Not with Tony Stark there.

"Thanks… dad."

Tony couldn't reply. Not with words, anyway. They didn't really need words, though. He hugged the boy – _his_ boy – and felt Peter's hand come up to his chin.

"You're going to kill me, kid," he murmured, softly. "I'm just going to turn into a pile of goo right here on this stool."

Peter chuckled.


	38. Chapter 38

The snow was still coming down outside the window of Peter and Ned's room when he woke the next morning. He rolled just a little, realizing that he'd ended up sleeping on the injured hip and it was killing him. A quick look at Ned's bed showed it was empty. Clearly his friend was up and gone. A glance at his watch explained why, as it was fairly late in the morning. He groaned, softly, and pulled the blankets up around him a little tighter, debating whether to sleep a little longer, or get up and start his day. A day that didn't have too much included into his schedule, really, so there wasn't much of a hurry to _get_ started.

Peter had stayed up late the night before. He and Tony hadn't really done anything exciting, but they'd found the Jenga game and had started a contest to see who could use all of the blocks and create the most interesting free-standing structure. The rule had been that it had to stay up, even in simulated earthquake conditions – which had simply been the other person hitting the counter the structure was standing on with a balled-up fist. In the interest of preserving their creations for posterity – especially since it wasn't, technically, _their_ Jenga game – they had taken photos of each structure as it had been built and subsequently taken apart for the next contestant.

Tony had declared himself to be the winner, but when Peter said he was going to lodge a protest, they'd decided that they would show the others the photos and let them decide the winner. He smiled, thinking that it had been a fun way to finish the day. Peter had to admit that he really _liked_ the times when he had Tony to himself like that. Even though he had to admit it was a little selfish.

Almost as if thinking about him had summoned him, there was a soft tap on the door and then Stark's head peeked in the door. The billionaire smiled when he saw Peter was awake and let himself in, walking over to the bed and carefully sitting on the edge of it as if trying not to jostle him.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"Monkey butt."

Peter frowned.

"What?"

Stark smiled and shrugged.

"Clint's daughter said that to me, once. I didn't get it, either. How do you feel?"

"I'm sore," Peter admitted. "Slept on the wrong side."

It was Tony's turn to frown. His hand went to Peter's forehead, first, and then pulled the blanket back, probably expecting blood to be gushing from Peter's side from the expression on his face. Without asking permission he carefully exposed the hip and then pulled the bandage back a little.

"It's not bleeding," he assured the boy, putting the bandage back and then gently pulling his sweats back over the bandage. "How much does it hurt?"

"I don't know. A little? Not as much as yesterday, though."

"We'll have Stephen check it out. Think you can make it down the stairs? Or do you want to stay in bed for a while longer?"

"You'll help me?"

"Of course I will."

"I can get up."

OOOOOOO

Strange was sitting on the sofa when Tony came down the staircase, Peter's arm draped over his shoulder and the boy wincing with every step – although he wasn't complaining. The room – and the cabin – was empty as far as Peter could tell. Only Natasha was with Strange on the sofa and there weren't any noises signifying anyone else inside. The doctor got up, abandoning Natasha's side and helped Stark get Peter down the last few stairs.

"Hurts?"

"Yeah."

The two men settled Peter into the spot beside Natasha, who set the Avenger book she had been reading aside, and touched his cheek.

"Good morning, baby."

"Hi, Natasha."

"You look terrible."

"My hip hurts."

"He _slept_ on it," Stark told them both. "I looked, but it didn't seem to be bleeding. Check it, though, will you, Stephen?"

"Yes."

The doctor moved to sit on the coffee table and Peter rolled just a little to give him access to that side. The motion put him against Natasha and she took advantage of that and put her arms around him with a smile. He shook his head but didn't insist that she go elsewhere. It wasn't _that_ much of his hip that was going to show – not like when Strange had cut his pants completely off – and as long as she didn't hum _stripper_ music or something, he'd be okay.

Probably.

As if she understood and appreciated the concession that he was making, she was quiet as they both watched Tony hitch his sweats down a little on the injured side to allow Stephen to remove the bandage.

"It didn't open," Strange said, approvingly. "You might have aggravated it a little, sleeping on it. We'll rebandage it with some extra padding, just to give you some more protection from being jolted."

"Okay."

There was a slight tingle and everything that Strange needed was suddenly on the coffee table beside him.

"Where is everyone?" Peter asked, watching as the doctor opened a medicated bandage.

He tensed, knowing that it was going to hurt when Strange started working on the wound and felt Natasha's grip tighten on him just a little. She knew it was going to hurt, too.

"They're outside working on igloo 2.0," Tony said. "Although Elmer said he was going to go look for some wildlife to photograph."

"By himself?" Peter asked, wincing and grabbing at Natasha's hand when pain suddenly spread like a wildfire along his hip as Strange started dressing the wound

She gave a sympathetic sound as she took his hand, holding it firmly. Stark winced in shared pain, and answered Peter, hoping to distract him from how much it hurt to be treated.

"No. Steve and Bruce went with him. And I went Ironman to point them in the right direction of a herd of bison."

"I hope he gets some good pictures."

Stark scowled. He was torn between not liking Rupp because of what he did to Peter – especially at a time like this when it was so obvious that the boy was hurting because of it – and admiring the guy for being what was apparently a decent human being. He was also annoyed that Peter was so forgiving, even though there wasn't anything wrong with it, necessarily It just felt like the boy was being naïve or something. Not that he would have preferred Peter holding a grudge. That would have been incredibly far out of character for Peter and would probably have felt wrong.

Romanoff caught the scowl and it made her smile, because she understood completely. Peter didn't notice, being too distracted by what Stephen was doing to him. The spy caught Stark's gaze and he rolled his eyes, well aware that she almost certainly could read his expression and knew what had him so annoyed. He had to admit that he was surprised _Romanoff_ didn't seem to be holding a grudge like he wanted to, but obviously it wasn't something that he could ask her about.

"I hope he does, too," Tony told him, blandly, turning his attention back to the wound just in time to see Stephen cover the injury with several thick bandages before taping it down and pulling Peter's sweats back up to cover the bandages.

"How does it feel?" Strange asked, reaching over to brush the boy's forehead.

"It's okay."

"One to ten?"

"Eight right now," Peter admitted. "It'll fade in a bit, though."

A glass of water and a couple of pills appeared on the coffee table and the doctor handed them to him.

"Take these."

"What are they?" Tony asked as Peter took the pills and swallowed them.

It wasn't a _challenge_ – he trusted Stephen to take care of Peter. He just wanted to know if he was going to have to worry about side effects or anything.

"It's just a prescription strength version of Ibuprofen," Strange told him. "Something to take the edge off. We should get something in his stomach, though. Peter?"

"Yeah."

He could eat.

"Preference?"

"Oatmeal?"

Strange had no problem using magic to precipitate things – at least as long as those around him knew of his abilities. A moment later there was a tray with a bowl of oatmeal, including raisins and brown sugar. Stephen knew how the boy liked it.

"Eat," he ordered. "Then we'll find something to occupy ourselves while we wait for the painkillers to kick in."

"Sounds good. Thanks."

The boy applied himself to his meal, and Tony leaned back, sitting beside him with his hand on the back of the sofa behind Peter. Natasha stayed where she was as well, and Stark smiled, and tapped Peter's head.

"Maybe I should come up with a campaign for a group activity tonight… What do you think?"

"D&D campaign?" Peter asked, immediately interested.

"Yeah. Interested?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Stephen?"

The doctor smiled. What a good idea for a distraction.

"I didn't bring my things."

Not that that would stop him. He just needed to know how many sets of dice he needed to summon. Tony shrugged.

"I imagine Peter didn't, either. Or Ned."

"You'd be wrong," Peter corrected. "We _both_ did."

"Seriously?"

The boy nodded.

"Of course."

Natasha grinned, and nudged him with her toe.

" _Nerd_."

Peter smiled.


	39. Chapter 39

With a goal in mind for the evening's entertainment, Tony settled on the end of the sofa with some hastily summoned D&D equipment and books, a pad of paper and some dice. Peter finished his oatmeal under Strange's watchful eye, while Natasha flipped through the book that MJ had brought the boy for his birthday. By the time the others started coming into the cabin thinking about warming up for a while and getting some lunch, Peter was asleep on his uninjured side with his head pillowed on Stark's thigh, and Stephen and Natasha were in the kitchen putting together soup and sandwiches for the group. Not wanting to disturb him, they all were a little quiet as they made their way into the dining room to tell each other about their morning activities.

Pepper walked over and quietly sat on the arm of the sofa, kissing Tony who presented a cheek for her attention but only flashed a smile before turning to finish the notes he was writing. She was used to him being focused when he had a project, but hadn't been aware that he had anything pressing at the time.

"What are you working on?" Pepper asked him, softly, reaching down and pulling Peter's blanket up a little and tucking it carefully around him.

"Making a D&D campaign."

"I didn't bring my little metal guy or my dice," she said.

"Stephen fixed that. And mine, his and Natasha's. Peter and Ned actually already have theirs – they _did_ bring them, apparently. Steve, Bruce, Clint and MJ will have to roll new characters, but the campaign I'm making will allow the new creations to stay up with the veterans."

"And _Elmer_."

Tony nodded, and to his credit, he didn't even scowl.

"And Elmer, yes."

She kissed him again.

"Is Peter alright?"

"Just sore. I think he's sleeping because it just hurts less to sleep than it does to be awake. And we _did_ stay up fairly late last night. He had breakfast a few hours ago."

"Do you need a break?"

Meaning did he want her to play pillow for a while.

"No. I can watch him while I'm doing this. And if he stays asleep, I won't have to worry about him trying to get information about the campaign from me before I'm ready to play it. It's more fun if it's new to the people playing it. Did they get their igloo done?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"I don't know how the natives did it, but the _Avengers_ aren't very good at making curved snow roofs. The middle collapsed when they started working inward."

"Again?"

"Yes. If only we had an _engineer_ here that could try to understand how keystones work in the snow…"

This time he did roll his eyes, and it made her smile, because she knew that he loved solving problems. Even if the one presented was just trying to figure out why the roof wouldn't stay on the igloo.

"If I'm done with this, I'll go out after lunch and see what they're doing wrong."

"That would be fine. Steve and the others are back from looking for bison. They can help."

"Good. Did they find what they were looking for?"

"I haven't seen the pictures, yet, but they sounded pleased. It doesn't hurt to know exactly where to look, I suppose."

"True."

"Are you going to eat?"

"No. I'll wait and eat with Peter."

She nodded, kissed him again and then went to the table to see how everyone was doing.

OOOOOO

The idea of a new D&D campaign for that evening was met with almost universal approval. Elmer had never heard of it, but Ned and MJ's enthusiasm about the whole thing wasn't to be ignored, and after they had all had lunch the Idahoan found himself sitting at one end of the table with a brand-new character sheet, some dice and a book to use for reference. Ned and Steve actually helped him roll the character, once he decided that he was going to make himself an Elvin fighter in the interest of keeping it simple and staying away from the spells of a magic caster or healer.

MJ was on that end of the table, as well. She had surprised them all by admitting that she'd tucked her own D&D things into her bag as well, although she hadn't really expected them to have the time to play. The fact that she didn't have to make herself a character freed her to help Clint and Bruce both make theirs. Clint was making a ranger, and Bruce's druid healer was definitely going to keep him occupied.

While they were preparing, Pepper took care of the dishes, pointing out that there weren't very many and it was hardly a chore to rinse soup bowls, spoons and sandwich plates and put them in the dishwasher. Just as she was finishing, a sleepy looking Peter limped to the end of the table – closest to the kitchen and where Rupp was still rolling out the abilities of his character with Ned's help – and Tony walked into the kitchen to greet her with a smile and a kiss.

"Finished?" she asked, running a soapy hand along his cheek with an impudent smile.

He nodded.

"Did you save us some soup?"

"It's in the microwave. There is sandwich stuff in the fridge." She raised her voice. "Peter? Soup?"

He turned from the sheet that Clint was showing him and looked over his shoulder.

"Yes, please."

"Soda?"

"Yes."

"Sandwich?"

"Yes."

"Tuna? Turkey? Roast beef?"

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes and Stark winked at her.

"He's a growing boy."

"Go feed your growing boy while I finish up in here."

"Yes, dear."

The others shifted enough to give Tony a space to put his lunch – and Peter's – but they hadn't had a lot of time with the boy the last day or so and wanted to check on him. Ned, especially, was animated, telling Peter about all the troubles that they were having getting the top of the igloo to be just right and how it had collapsed on him and MJ that morning, only to have the next try fail just as epically, cascading snow onto Clint and MJ.

"The sides are easy," MJ added. "The top isn't working right."

"I'm going to come out and help you guys when I'm done eating," Stark assured them with the easy manner of a person who was certain they would have the answer that was eluding everyone else.

He probably _would_ , though, and most of them knew it.

"Are you coming, Peter?" Ned asked.

The boy hesitated but shook his head.

"Not yet."

He was not ready for another crippling bout between the cold weather and his injured hip.

"It would probably be alright," Strange told him, understanding the hesitation. "The wound is closed. If you didn't go beyond the porch, a little fresh air wouldn't hurt."

Peter shook his head.

"I'll wait a while. I don't want to risk it."

That lesson was well and truly learned, and he wasn't going to repeat the mistake. A little fresh air _could_ hurt – and he knew it.

The others carefully set their sheets and supplies aside for use after dinner, and then headed for the entrance, bundling up and getting ready to go outside. Peter and Tony sat at the table eating their lunch, with Pepper coming out to keep them company.

"It's probably not going to hurt like it did last time," Strange told him, softly, once the table was empty of everyone but Natasha, Tony and Pepper.

He wanted the boy to be cautious, but not inhibited.

"I'll wait. Just in case."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked. "I could use an assistant out there."

"It looked pretty good, earlier," Natasha pointed out. "No raw edges."

Peter frowned.

"You weren't supposed to be _looking_."

She smiled and shrugged.

"Couldn't help myself." He blushed, and her smile grew brazen. "Don't worry. I didn't see much. I was looking at the wound. Not the little bit of your butt that-"

" _Natasha!"_

He was brilliant red, now, and covered his entire face with his hands, knowing that she was doing it on purpose and amused and scandalized in equal measures.

" _Peter_!" The others smiled but left the conversation to Romanoff. Aware that she was the one to handle him this time. "It's so _cute_ , just the right amount of roundness and-"

"You're _killing_ me," he interrupted, peeking at her through his fingers. Even his ears were a brilliant red by now.

"Come out and play with us or I'll make sure _everyone_ knows about the birthmark on-"

" _Fine_. Stop. Please?"

"You'll come outside?" She asked.

"Yes. To the porch."

"Good. Thank you."

He closed his fingers again, giving himself a chance to lose the blushes and Romanoff winked at the others and stood up.

"Coming, Stephen?"

"Yes."


	40. Chapter 40

They bundled him in another pair of sweats and then his snow pants – even though he wasn't going to be allowed off the porch. The more layers the better, since Strange didn't want there to be a repeat of the cold induced pain that had happened before – especially since he'd pretty much assured the boy that it wouldn't happen and Natasha had pretty much blackmailed him into coming outside.

Leaning heavily on Tony he walked out into the snowy afternoon and was helped over to the porch rail that overlooked a bustling activity that included Clint, Elmer and Ned making blocks that were being stacked to the side, MJ and Bruce clearing broken blocks from the middle of a circular wall of other blocks that were stacked almost chest high. There was a space for what was probably supposed to be the door and Jack was playing in that space, marking it as his territory and then chasing snowballs that Steve was tossing for him.

Peter leaned against the rail, waiting to see if the pain was going to start, or if Dr. Strange had been right. So far, so good.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked.

"Yeah."

"If you need anything, Pepper is going to stay with you."

"Okay."

"And I'll be right there."

He gestured vaguely at the snowy walls in front of them.

"I'm okay, Tony. Thanks."

"Put your hood up. I don't want you catching anything."

He didn't wait for Peter to do it, instead just reaching out to take care of the chore himself. Only then did he move off the porch to the steps, waving Strange and Natasha to come with him. Pepper moved up to take the space Stark had vacated. She put an arm around him, her hand resting just above his uninjured hip.

"Okay so far?"

"Yes."

They watched as Stark walked into the center of the circle and called all the builders to him, picking up Jack to avoid letting the puppy get underfoot and maybe stepped on. They couldn't hear what he said, but he was gesturing one-handed to the sides of the igloo and then waving it over his head in different spots. There were a lot of nodding, and the group broke up to separate into teams of two, and everyone started to stack bricks of snow close to their own section.

Pepper took a few pictures of each group to add to her photo collection.

"He's pretty smart, huh?" Peter said, impressed, as each group then started to build their own section of the domed part, using what looked like a million snow bricks to slowly get each section closer to the ones across from them, with Stark standing in the middle directing them, still holding Jack under one arm.

"That he is," Pepper agreed, also leaning on the rail. "Probably even as smart as he thinks he is – and _that's_ saying something."

It didn't happen quickly. Even with all the people working on the building, it still took almost an hour for the igloo to actually take shape, and Pepper stayed beside Peter while it happened. He ached a little by the time the final connection was made – all of them connecting to a keystone brick that Stark was holding while the others packed snow all around it.

Not that Peter or Pepper saw it – they were on the outside of the structure and now everyone else was on the inside. They were high enough above it that they had been able to see the progression, though, and they heard the muted cheer that rose up when the last gaping hole was plugged and the roof stayed up. Then one by one each builder emerged from the small space that had been left for the doorway. They all stood around admiring their handiwork and turned to look at the porch when Peter and Pepper started clapping for them. Everyone took a bow – and then Clint lobbed a snowball at Peter, who caught it rather than dodging it and flung it right back at him, striking Bruce when Clint dodged as well.

That started a bit of a melee.

Careful to avoid their newly completed igloo, Bruce tossed a snowball at Peter, who was too sore to move quickly and dodge, so just caught that one as well. He also caught several others that were either thrown at _him_ , or at Pepper, moving only his arm when needed and protecting the injured hip from any sudden movement that might hurt it. When she realized that he was keeping her from getting hit, she made snowballs with the snow that had formed on the railing and threw a few of her own, impressing Peter when she unerringly hit Stephen in the back of the head as he tried to avoid being white-washed by Natasha and Steve.

Tony ducked back into the igloo, taking Jack with him, but everyone else that wasn't on the porch was covered in snow in only a matter of minutes and involved in a full on snowball fight.

"We should go inside," Pepper decided, looking at the group below them. "We can start coffee and hot water for cocoa."

And she didn't want him to get hurt if someone forgot he was sore and grabbed him to white-wash him, too.

"Okay."

They headed inside, with him noticeably limping and leaning on the arm she had offered him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned, as they walked inside and closed the door behind them, muting the sound of any other scuffle and yelling.

"Yeah," he assured her, pulling off his coat. "Just sore. It's not as bad as it was the other day."

"You should go sit down."

He shook his head, smiling.

"I'll come hang out in the kitchen with you – I can sit down there."

Pleased that he wanted her company, but torn, since she wanted him off his feet and someplace softer than the stool in the kitchen, she helped him out of his snow pants and then shed her own winter gear and walked with him into the kitchen.

He was comfortably settled on a stool in the kitchen, drinking a cup of hot chocolate and watching the coffee brewing while discussing the never ending snowfall when they heard the door open and the sounds of everyone piling into the cabin. Jack came trotting into the kitchen, first, wagging his tail cheerfully and looking for a snack. Peter leaned over to rub his ears, but didn't offer him anything to eat.

A moment later, Natasha walked into the kitchen as well. She was wet; snow had been in her hair and melted, some had trickled down her neck and under her shirt, but she smiled, clearly in a good mood – despite the fact that she had been pinned under Ned and Steve getting snow dumped on her when Peter and Pepper had gone inside. She hugged Peter, pressing her cold cheek against his for a moment before turning to Pepper with one hand still on his shoulder.

"Ned has volunteered to help Stephen make dinner tonight to give you a break from cooking duties."

"That's nice."

"I thought so, too."

"What are we having?" Peter asked, curiously, just as the coffee machine gurgled and let everyone know it was done brewing.

"Tacos."

Pepper reached for several mugs, aware that everyone would want a chance to warm up after being outside all afternoon. Just as Romanoff started pouring, Tony walked into the kitchen, too.

"Are you guys hungry?"

"I am," Peter admitted.

"Let's get out of the way and leave the kitchen to Ned and Stephen. I want at least a couple of hours for my campaign, and I don't want taco shells all over my notes."

He gathered Pepper, Peter and two mugs of coffee and headed for the sofa rather than sit at the table. Peter saw that the rest of the group was gathered in the living room as well – all but Strange and Ned, who were nowhere to be seen. Natasha said both had gone to change before making dinner. The fire had been built up in the fireplace and the entire living room was bathed in warmth. Clint had taken one of the beanbag chairs and had scooted it as close to the fireplace as he could handle. MJ was in the other one. Steve and Elmer had the recliners and Elmer had his camera out looking at the photos. Bruce smiled at them from the sofa where they all joined him.

"Coffee's ready, folks," Tony announced. "MJ. Hot chocolate, young lady."

She turned her head, looking up from the D&D book she had been looking through, and rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. Peter shook his head, amused, but he didn't say anything. He liked that she was comfortable enough with Tony, now, that she didn't seem too impressed with hanging out with Ironman – although he suspected that she might have a bit of a crush on Steve. Peter eased himself down on the couch beside Bruce, who handed him a pillow to cushion his hip, and then leaned back into the soft leather. Pepper sat beside him, with Tony beside her, one arm around her, one holding his coffee.

"Feeling better?" she asked, running her fingers lightly through his hair, pushing his bangs back and at the same time checking for any fever.

He nodded. He knew what she was doing, and didn't mind. It never ceased to touch him that they wanted to be near him like they did – and were always touching him. May used to do that, too, he remembered. Even more, if he concentrated, he thought he could remember his parents doing it, too. It made him feel warm – far warmer than any fever ever could.

"I'm good. Yeah. Thanks."

"You're ready for my campaign? Got your things down here?"

"No. Not yet. They're in my bag, still."

He didn't like the idea of getting them, either, the stairs seemed to be a mile high at the moment.

Stark smirked and set his coffee down and reached for his watch.

"Ned?"

There was a short pause.

 _"Yeah, Mr. Stark?"_

Peter smiled; he could hear his friend's excitement at being called on his watch.

"Bring Peter's D&D things when you come down, will you?"

 _"Yeah."_

Peter raised his watch, too.

"Thanks, Ned."

 _"Sure thing."_

"That's handy," Elmer Rupp said.

"Ned's a handy guy," Tony agreed.


	41. Chapter 41

_"Your party has been on the road from the trade fair for several days. The path has wound through mountain passes and thick evergreen forests. It was cold when you started out, but now a sudden snowfall has blocked the highest pass – which is the one you're planning on using. It's getting colder, and you're beginning to think that maybe a warm sandy beach somewhere would have been a better destination…"_

Peter rolled his eyes, amused at the gentle jab that he knew wasn't serious, and looked over at Ned, who grinned. They all recognized the scenario Tony was drawing on for the campaign they were going to be doing.

Stark winked at the boy, and glanced down at the notes he had written, which were hidden behind a cardboard barrier that he was doing his DMing behind, before continuing.

 _"Suddenly the smell of wood smoke wafts through early evening air, even through the steadily building snow fall and you notice a side road off to your right. A small road that seems to lead off into an even thicker area of forest. Your party stops to confer. Keep going? Or see if you can find shelter along the unknown path?"_

He looked at the group, expectantly, and everyone but Elmer understood that they were supposed to decide what to do next – just as if they were actually the group of travelers in Tony's story. Immediately Ned started going over the pros and the cons of both, haggling with Natasha, whose character was on horseback and didn't care how deep the snow was. Since her character was a rogue and not as kind hearted as a Paladin it was well within the character to not be concerned about the rest of the party, beyond making sure they made it because there was safety in numbers.

Stark watched the entire group allow themselves to get into the role play game, and watched as Ned reminded Elmer that his fighter was supposed to be blunt spoken so it was okay to say what he was thinking – and to scowl. Eventually the group made the choice he'd expected – especially with reckless teenagers playing – and they took the small road rather than stay on the beaten path.

What followed was a long story, filled with perils and tribulations of all sorts. Bandits – which the large group handled with only minimal injuries. There was also a pack of mutant direcats that killed Clint's character – only to have a lucky roll from Bruce's druid heal him and a cabin that looked like an innocent sanctuary but turned out to be a magical trap designed by a trio of evil sorcerers bent on trapping travelers and using their life forces to keep themselves young and powerful.

Strange rolled his eyes at that – especially the descriptions that Stark gave the wizards who all seemed to look like _him_ – but he had to admit that the sorcerers were powerful and dangerous and it was a pretty good portrayal of what kind of power that they could bring to bear down on the unsuspecting group. Stark was in his element, creativity and mayhem and led the story along, giving everyone a chance to participate – and only Clint's character had died by the time the story was completed with a furious battle between the sorcerers and the group of fighters, druids, archer, wizard, rangers and paladin.

In the end, the bad guys were vanquished, a secret hoard of gold and other treasure had been discovered and divided among most members of the party and Bruce's druid healer found a handy new crystal ball.

"That was _awesome_ , Mr. Stark," Ned said, putting his dice back into the little velvet bag that he used to carry his gear. "Great story line."

"Thank you, Ned."

MJ added her agreement, along with Peter. _They_ were the experts, after all, and had played a million campaigns and knew quality when they experienced it. Tony had enjoyed coming up with the story, and had enjoyed watching the others – especially _Peter_ , of course – have a good time with it.

"You're welcome." The boy gathered his things, and Peter's. "I'm going to bed. I'll put yours away, too."

"Thanks."

Peter wasn't tired. He hadn't built an igloo, or gone snowshoeing to find bison to take photos of. The others were ready to wind down, and drifted off into small groups, which eventually turned into singles that finally headed up the stairs – or into the living room in Elmer's case – but Peter wasn't ready to go to bed, and realized that maybe he was a little restless. From being confined for a couple of days because of his injury, or for some other reason, he wasn't sure – and wasn't quite willing to bring it up.

Stark sat at the table with Pepper and Peter, sipping a final cup of coffee, watching as Steve took Jack outside for a final chance to do his business before bed. He enjoyed the quiet times like this. Whether they were in a snowbound cabin or at the compound.

"Did you have fun?" Peter asked Pepper.

"I did. Don't tell him, but Tony is _very_ creative."

"He already _knows_ ," Stark told her with a self-satisfied smirk, leaning back into his chair. "It went well, though, I think."

"Yeah," Peter agreed. "It was great. Thanks."

"You're welcome. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay."

"Ready for bed?"

Which Peter understood meant that Tony wanted to know if he needed help up the stairs. He shook his head, though.

"I'm not tired, and I don't want to keep Ned up. I'm going to hang out down here for a while."

"Want company?" Pepper offered.

"I'm going to read that Avenger book," he told her. "Maybe find out how Ironman and Pepper Potts met."

She rolled her eyes with an amused smile.

"I hope _that_ isn't in the book."

"I'll let you know."

"You're okay?" Tony asked him. "You looked a little restless, earlier."

"Probably from being stuck inside so long when everyone else isn't."

"Or something _else_? Maybe another Elmer stuck out in the woods in the snow?"

Peter shrugged, ruefully.

"You mind looking? Just in case?"

"No."

If that was what it took to make Peter feel better. He got up and headed for the door, silently moving through the living room to avoid waking Elmer, who was wrapped in a blanket and already snoring, softly. He didn't bother with a coat; instead he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Steve looked up from watching Jack run around his little snow enclave.

"What's up?"

"Peter's restless," Stark said. "I'm just going to make sure we don't have someone stuck in the snow out there."

"Good idea."

Rogers watched Tony activate the suit and was quiet while he interfaced with his AI.

"Anything, Friday?"

" _Nope. Not within five miles – and even further. Some wildlife – mostly holed up in their own snow forts, or huddled together in herds – like the elk, deer and bison."_

Satisfied, Stark deactivated his suit and shrugged when Steve gave him a questioning look.

"Nothing."

"Maybe it's just cabin fever," Steve said, calling Jack to him. "We'll try to get him outside tomorrow."

"Yeah. No _sledding_ , though. He isn't ready for that, yet."

"We'll find something."

They went inside, and Steve took off his jacket and told Tony goodnight, taking his puppy and heading up the staircase. Tony went back into the dining room and sat in the chair he'd vacated and took hold of his nearly empty coffee cup.

"I didn't see anything," he told them both. "If it keeps bothering you, though, come find me, okay?"

"It's probably nothing," Peter said, feeling a little foolish.

"But it might be. You know those feelings better than anyone. Pay attention to what they're telling you, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're going to read your book?"

"Yeah."

"You're _okay_?"

"I'm fine, Tony."

Stark got up and brushed his hand along Peter's shoulder, taking his cup and Pepper's into the kitchen to rinse them out.

"I could stay up and keep you company," Pepper offered.

"I'm just going to read for a while," he pointed out. "It's okay. Really."

She got up when Tony returned and both told him good night. Peter watched them disappear into the living room, got up and collected the Avenger book before turning off the dining room light and sitting at the table, reading by the faint glow of the kitchen safety light.

He still felt restless, though, and unconsciously kept looking toward the door between sentences.


	42. Chapter 42

" _Tony…"_

The whisper wasn't really enough to wake him, but the fear in the tone of voice had him sitting up before his eyes were even open. He turned to Peter, who was standing beside his bed. The boy's face was pale and scared.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. _Something_ , though."

Stark pushed the blankets back, carefully getting out of bed to avoid disturbing Pepper.

"Your injury?"

"No." Peter limped out into the living room and through it to the door, turning to make sure he was following. "Something's wrong. Will you look again? Please?"

"Yeah."

He didn't argue. He couldn't have. Not when Peter looked so upset. There was fear lurking in the boy's expression as he opened the door wearing only the sweats and sweatshirt that he'd been wearing when Tony had gone to bed. He didn't snap at him to get a coat on, he just followed him out onto the porch and then around the side of the deck to the side that faced one of the sharper mountain peaks.

Tony followed Peter's gaze and activated the Ironman suit.

"Friday?"

The scan only took a minute.

" _There's no one out there, boss. Just wildlife."_

He deactivated just the helmet.

"There isn't anyone in the snow, Peter."

"It's not a _person_ , Tony," the boy told him. "It's more serious than that. It _has_ to be."

"What?"

"I don't _know_." He sounded frustrated, but there was no hiding the fear in his expression. "Something terrible. Something is _happening_. I can-"

They were interrupted by a very low rumble that seemed to roll through the darkness toward them. Not a loud sound; it was ominous and seemed to come from every direction, echoing through the falling snow, reverberating off the mountains all around them and sending goosebumps along Peter's entire body and the hairs on the back of Stark's neck on end.

"What the-" he activated his helmet. " _Friday_?"

This time the scan wasn't for people. The AI turned the suit's sensors toward the mountain and Tony swore immediately. A huge section of unstable snow had broken free under the weight of all of the new fallen snow. It was coming down the mountainside above them, snapping trees like they were popsicles and pulling them along the deadly path of the avalanche to add to the weight of the debris that was heading straight toward the cabin. And pretty much everyone Tony loved.

"What do we do, Friday?" Tony asked, reaching for Peter's collar automatically with one metal clad hand and instinctively pulling the boy behind him. Not that he could block a mountain of snow with his body alone, but they had the resources of the entire suit – and that was formidable. "How do we stop it?"

A hundred different displays came through his heads up as the AI sifted through the data at speeds even he couldn't keep up with. His hand came up. There was no way they would have time to wake everyone and evacuate them. There wasn't any place safe that they could get to in the 30 seconds that Friday was telling him it would take for the wall of snow to hit the cabin – which meant trying to use a repulser to try to clear a path of snow around the house to at least spare the structure. He'd have to wait, though, and time it just right.

"Brace, Peter!"

It was all the warning that he had time to give, and more than he could afford those still sleeping in the cabin.

The movement beside him would have gone unnoticed if it had been just him. He was focused on the snow. The avalanche was crashing down the mountainside, now, and the low rumble had turned into a freight train. The air pressure preceding the slide was enormous and threatened to suck the oxygen right out of the air around them. Friday, however, had no problem tracking the trajectory of the snow and every other detail around the Ironman suit. Some were more important than others at that moment, though, and the multiple flashing strobe light behind them didn't matter to the AI anywhere near as much as the fact that Peter had stepped out behind Tony's suit and had raised his hands as well.

Right before Stark activated his repulser to try to blast through the snow, there was a flash of orange light and his scanners screamed at him that the air pressure was increasing. The leading edge of the avalanche was almost on them. Tony had the momentary thought they had to somehow be able to get Strange to use his time stone, somehow, and get them back far enough in the past that they could clear the cabin – or do some avalanche control to stop the thing from happening completely.

Then he realized what Friday was already telling him. The avalanche was right on them. Or it _should_ have been. He'd activated his repulser and the limitless force of energy went right at the wall of snow, exactly as planned, but the wave of snow hadn't crested. Instead, crazily and defying every law of physics and nature that Tony knew – and he knew them _all_ – the avalanche had stopped, almost as if frozen in time for the briefest of moments.

Then was being pushed backward by some unseen force. Not just the wall of packed snow, but the broken trees and the boulders that had been broken off the mountainside and caught up in the slide as well. It was all moving backward. Slowly at first; since the crushing weight of so much destruction wasn't going to be stopped in an instant, but then a little more. The energy of its downward momentum gone, the avalanche lost its fury and the entire wall of debris stopped some 500 feet shy of the cabin, well into the tree line that protected the little clearing.

Tony stared, shocked, his arm still upraised at the now placid mountain. Friday nudged him, and he turned, looking at Peter who was standing beside him with his arms both raised, as well. The boy's face was pale and as Stark watched, he dropped his hands and then leaned drunkenly to the side, catching himself with a hand on the railing. Tony reached out and caught his arm, supporting him as he realized what must have happened even as Friday started analyzing the snow in front of them for any weaknesses that might pose a further threat to the cabin and those who were in it.

 _"It's stable, boss."_

Tony deactivated the helmet, his attention on the boy, now.

"Peter?"

He didn't get an answer. Leaning heavily on the rail, and on Tony, Peter felt like he'd been turned inside out. He hadn't understood what was happening until he saw a flash in his mind of what Friday was showing Tony and had then felt himself moving out from behind Ironman's protective shadow and had raised his hands, feeling a force of energy well up inside himself like nothing he'd ever felt before. Before he even had a chance to be afraid – and the wall of snow he could see through Tony's heads up display was _terrifying_ , indeed – he felt that energy build even more, had seen an orange tinge reflect off the falling snow and had suddenly felt all the energy inside him release in a controlled blast that left him numb with exhaustion. And weak with relief when he realized whatever he'd done had worked.

Not only was the avalanche stopped in its proverbial tracks, but the screaming spider senses were now silent. Either because the danger was gone, or because he didn't have the energy to feel them just then.

Stark shook him, concerned by just how terrible he looked.

"Peter?"

He jerked his attention from the tree line to the man beside him, the concern enough to clear his head just a moment, at least.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

They both heard a clatter behind them, and turned. Elmer Rupp was only a few feet away, completely unnoticed in the drama that had unfolded in front of him. His eyes wide and his face pale, the Idahoan had dropped the camera he'd been holding to the deck.

"What the _hell_?"


	43. Chapter 43

"Elmer…"

Stark realized that their headlong trek through the living room must have woken the man, and he'd naturally followed – probably grabbing up his camera just as automatically. And had seen everything that had just happened.

Rupp raised his hands, pale and shaky.

"Please don't kill me."

"What?"

Tony was still supporting Peter, his concern focused on the boy, but that scared plea grabbed his attention, despite the fact that he could tell he was supporting more and more of Peter's weight every moment.

"I won't tell anyone," Rupp said, quickly.

Tony rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"I'm not _going_ to kill you, Elmer," he said. "Help me get Peter inside."

The man scooped his camera up by the neck strap and jumped forward to take Peter's other side.

"What is he?" Elmer asked, draping the boy's arm over his shoulder as they turned toward the front of the cabin.

"What?"

Stark was distracted, but the odd question certainly got his attention.

"An _alien_? Is that why you adopted him? Someone in the government made you-"

"He's a fifteen-year-old boy," Tony snapped. "He's not an alien, and no one _made_ me do anything. I-"

"I'm _sixteen_ ," Peter reminded him, weakly.

Just as they reached the door, Natasha opened it, obviously on her way out the same door. Romanoff was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, and her expression was confused and worried.

"What happened?" she asked as the two men walked Peter into the living room and settled him on the sofa.

Stephen was there, as well. He'd been roused when Natasha had bolted from their bed and had followed her down the stairs, assuming that Peter was sleepwalking and that he might be needed.

"Who's all up?" Stark asked.

"Just us," Strange replied, stepping forward and immediately starting to check Peter for a fever or injury. "What's going on, Tony?"

"Let's keep it that way." He looked over at the door that led to their bedroom, debating whether to wake Pepper or tell her in the morning. He decided to wait – only because there wasn't anything that she could do just then. "We had a bit of a situation."

"An avalanche," Natasha said, softly. She was watching Strange, who was sitting on the coffee table in front of where Peter was sitting on the couch. The boy was slumped over with his head low, practically between his knees, and he looked exhausted. "I thought he was sleepwalking."

"I did, too, when he first woke me," Stark admitted.

He went on to tell them what happened, and both shook their heads in amazement.

"A close one," Strange said, looking up from working on Peter. "The Mind stone presumably, using Peter to take care of the danger?"

"Could _you_ have done what he did?"

"I'm not exactly sure what _he_ did."

"I took pictures," Elmer said, automatically. He had been standing quietly off to the side, trying not to remind Stark that he was there and completely uncertain that he wasn't in some kind of danger from having seen what he just witnessed. The man had seen all the movies, after all, and knew what happened to the guy who saw the things that he wasn't supposed to see. Then he realized what he'd said, and hesitated. "I mean… If you want to see them, I might have snapped a photo, or two… not on _purpose_. Just automatically. It's because that's what-"

"Relax, Elmer," Tony told him. "I told you, we're not going to kill you."

Romanoff frowned.

"Why would he think you're going to _kill_ him?"

"Because I saw what Peter can do," Elmer said. "I know how these things play out."

She actually smiled at that, although he looked a bit frightened, still.

"They don't play out like that for this," she told him. "You're in the wrong country to worry about that. Well… with the wrong group of _people_ , anyway," she acknowledged.

"What he did needs to be a _secret_ , though," Stark said. "I'd appreciate it if you kept it that way. If things got out, it could be difficult for Peter – and he has enough on his plate already."

Rupp nodded, fumbling with his camera and sliding out the memory card.

"You're better off with these than I am, then," he said, handing it to Tony. "You know, for safe keeping and all."

"Thank you." Stark looked at Strange. "How is he, Stephen?"

"Fevered and in shock. I think it's just exhaustion, but we'll keep him warm and let him get some rest and see how he feels in the morning. If he's still fevered when he wakes, we'll take steps to deal with it."

"Would he be alright with Pepper?"

The doctor nodded.

"That would be a good choice."

Tony came around to the front of the sofa and sat on the coffee table next to Strange, reaching out and lifting Peter's head by putting his hand under his chin. The boy was still deathly pale and like Stephen said, he looked shocky and fairly out of it. But he made the attempt to focus when Stark said his name.

"We're going to put you to bed."

Peter nodded.

"I'm okay."

Tony nodded, and gave him a tender smile, his hand brushing the boy's forehead. Like Stephen said, he was pretty warm at the moment.

"I know you are. You're just going to keep Pepper company."

"Okay."

"Good."

Tony got him to his feet and with Peter leaning heavily on him the billionaire walked him into the bedroom. Pepper woke when he pulled the blankets back and sat up when Peter slid under them and settled next to her, closing his eyes almost immediately.

"Is he alright?" she asked, sleepily.

"Yeah."

"Was he sleepwalking?"

"No." He leaned over Peter's already sleeping form and kissed her. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

She nodded and lay back down, gathering her sleepy teenager into her arms and frowning when she realized that he was warmer than she was. Peter mumbled something and she pressed a kiss against his forehead, shushing him with the gesture, and he settled back. Tony covered them both back up, told her that he'd be back in a minute and then went back out into the living room.

"Did Friday record what Peter did?" Romanoff asked when he reappeared.

"Yes."

A quick download to his cellphone and they were able to watch the events unfolding on the deck less than an hour before.

"How did he do that?" Elmer asked, after they'd seen it a couple of times.

"It's something of a secret, Elmer," Tony told him. "I'd rather not explain it to you – for your own safety."

"He's not an alien, though?"

"No."

Strange shared a look with Stark and rolled his eyes, as well.

"Is the snowpack stable, or are we going to have a repeat of this scare?"

"Friday says it's safe. I'm going to go out and take another look before heading back to bed." He looked at Rupp. "I'd rather the kids don't hear about this – even leaving Peter's participation out. They're supposed to be having a good time, not worrying."

"I won't tell anyone anything."

"Thank you."

"I'll let the others know tomorrow," Natasha said.

"Good. Thanks. I'll make sure Pepper knows."

"Peter doesn't need anything?" Romanoff asked Stephen.

"For now? Just some sleep. If he wakes and you need me, Tony, call."

"I will."

The two headed back up the stairs, and Elmer sat down on the sofa, checking his camera for any damage from when he'd dropped it, earlier.

"Your life is a lot more complicated than mine is," the Idahoan said as Stark headed across the room to go back outside.

"Sometimes," Tony admitted.


	44. Chapter 44

"Wow…"

Natasha heard the awe in Clint's voice and had to nod her own agreement. They were standing on the deck, the early morning sun trying to fight its way through the scattering snowflakes, giving them all a good view of the wall of snow that was, in some places, literally taller than the trees that it had been stopped behind. The area between the face of the mountain and the tree line was covered in snow that was so packed it reminded Natasha of one of the giant glaciers that she'd once seen on a trip to Alaska.

"That's some serious power," Steve said, also looking awed.

They'd all seen Stark's video that morning when they'd gotten up, and there was no doubt who was responsible for the tightly packed wall – and for stopping it from almost certainly impacting the cabin in the middle of the night. Peter was still asleep – and so were Ned and MJ – but the rest of them were up, and all of them had been interested in seeing the effect of an avalanche stopped in mid slide.

"Wonder what happens when it starts melting," Bruce said, leaning against the rail of the deck.

"Presumably it melts slowly enough to make it to the rivers during spring thaw," Strange said, also leaning against the rail. "Rather than forcing a deluge through the living room."

"If it doesn't stop snowing, we're going to be here to find out," Steve said.

Natasha smiled at that.

"I think we're safe."

The snow was still coming down that morning, but it wasn't as hard as it had been the past few days, and there were places that the sky was almost blue when they looked toward the sledding hill.

"I'm going to go in," Clint said.

He needed coffee.

The others agreed, and they all went inside, shedding coats and boots and joining Pepper, who had left the bed to Tony and Peter and come looking for coffee as well. Tony had woken long enough to tell her what had happened, but after pressing a gentle hand against Peter's forehead to check for any kind of dangerous fever, he'd decided that he was going to sleep in. Peter was still warm, but nothing like the night before – although he hadn't stirred, even in his sleep, so it was obvious that he was still sleeping off the activities of the night before.

Elmer was seated at the table with Pepper. The two were looking through his pictures from the day before – as opposed to the ones from the _night_ before, which were in Tony's things, now, where no one would find them. They both looked up when the rest of the group sat at the table, everyone reaching for the coffee pot and a mug.

"Has Peter woken, yet?" Clint asked.

"No. Not, yet."

"He'll probably sleep a while," Stephen said. "I'll check on him later to make sure his fever isn't out of control."

"You'll check his hip, too?" Pepper asked.

"Of course."

"Should we start breakfast?" Clint asked, getting up. "We can have it ready when the kids get up. I know Ned was talking about sledding this morning – and I'm all for that."

Of course he was. Any time he could hurtle himself down a slope, or into the sky attached to a rocket, he was willing. Bruce agreed with that, too, although the general consensus was that most of them intended to stay inside – at least that morning – and simply relax after the igloo building of the day before.

"I'll help you," Strange said, also standing.

The doctor wasn't overly fond of cooking, but he didn't mind doing it, especially when he could use magic to assist. He was very much aware of the fact that the people who cooked never had to do dishes – it was an unspoken rule. Stephen Strange was _not_ fond of doing dishes. He would have cooked for an army before doing dishes for one.

By the time Ned and MJ joined the adults at the table, dressed and ready for another day out in the snow, there were stacks of pancakes, platters of eggs and sausages waiting for them all to eat. Both were told that Peter had had a slight setback in the middle of the night and was sleeping it off, and that Tony was keeping him company, and were then told to eat up.

Which they did, knowing that if it was serious the others would look a lot more concerned than they were. Especially Pepper and Strange.

OOOOOOOOO

A hand on his forehead woke him at the same time he felt someone sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Peter?"

He opened his eyes, feeling muzzy and a bit out of sorts – almost as if he were hung over, even though it wasn't a state that he'd ever actually experienced, only read about. Doctor Strange and Tony were both in the bedroom, Tony sitting on the bed and Strange standing next to it. Both men smiled when he woke.

"Hey…" Tony told him, brushing his hair back, checking for fever. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," he admitted.

"Warm?" Strange asked, reaching for his forehead as well.

"No. I feel okay."

"You're not too badly fevered," the doctor told him. "How tired are you? Exhausted as if you've been up for days, or just tired…?"

"Just worn out, I think," Peter replied. "Like I stayed up too late and shouldn't have because I have school the next day."

"How's your hip?"

"It aches."

He hadn't slept on it, though, so that was a plus.

Strange kept him on his side so he could check the wound and then rebandaged it with a thick dressing to provide protection. To avoid injuring it when they were showing some progress, he said as he taped the bandage down.

"Do you feel up to getting up for a while?" Tony asked.

He was tired, but he knew that Tony wouldn't worry if he slept some more as long he had something to eat, first. Instead of giving any resistance he simply nodded and allowed Stark to help him get out of bed. He felt stiff and sore and tired, but he knew that some of that was simply from being in bed and might work itself out with a little movement. Of course, he didn't feel like moving too much just then, so he'd stick with being sore for a while longer.

He wasn't leaning too heavily on Stark when he walked out of the bedroom and smiled at the others when he saw that the living room was far from empty. Bruce was in a beanbag chair reading the Avenger book by the fireplace. Natasha and Pepper were on the sectional with coffee cups in hand, watching a movie, and Jack was lounging in front of the fireplace, almost asleep – although he wagged his tail idly in greeting when Peter made his appearance with Tony and Stephen.

They all looked up, and Natasha moved slightly, to make a space for the boy between her and Pepper. The guys had had him to themselves long enough. She was ready to spend some time with him, too, and to make sure that he was okay, of course. Peter accepted the invitation and both women greeted him with a smile and a touch.

"How do you feel?" Pepper asked before Natasha could.

"I'm okay," he answered, honestly. "Tired."

"Hungry?" Romanoff asked.

"Yeah."

"Breakfast or lunch, Peter?" Strange asked.

He would have said whatever was easiest, but he knew that the doctor almost certainly wasn't going to actually cook anything, so he just shrugged and asked for a plate of chicken nuggets and French fries. A moment later it was placed on the coffee table in front of him, and the two men flanked the women on the sofa.

"What happened with the avalanche?" Peter asked, curiously. "Is everything okay?"

"You stopped the snow well away from the cabin," Stark said. "It's fairly well packed, and completely stable. We do not need to worry about anything like that – at least for a while, Friday says."

"But if you start getting any vibes, make sure you speak up," Natasha told him with a wink as she stole a chicken nugget from his plate.

"I will."

"What do you remember about last night?" Stephen asked him, another plate of nuggets appearing in his hand with a gentle tingle, which he then handed to Romanoff.

Peter shrugged.

"I was restless, and it got worse and worse. I tried to ignore it – I thought it was just because I hadn't been outside much. When it was so bad that it was making my head hurt, I decided I should at least ask Tony to come look once more – thinking that maybe we missed something the first time." He hesitated. "Then it got a bit weird. I was seeing what Tony was seeing, even though I didn't have my suit on or Karen to relay it, and I knew there was an avalanche coming."

"I assume you didn't cast the spell that stopped it?" Stephen asked.

"No. I wouldn't have known what to do. It _came_ from me, but I didn't have anything to do with it, really."

They chatted with him while he ate his lunch, but the conversation went from the avalanche to what the others were doing, and the revelation that Rupp had seen him push the snow back with the spell but had already turned over the memory card with the photos and had promised not to share the information with anyone. It remained to be seen if he really would keep it to himself, but without any evidence to back him up, there couldn't be too much of a sensation even if he _did_ tell others what Peter has done.

Peter finished eating and was back to sleep not too long after. He was tired, and now he was also pleasantly full. He wanted to see what the avalanche aftermath looked like, but he could wait until later. Leaning against Natasha since the injured hip was on Pepper's side, he drifted off while the adults watched movies, or in Bruce's case, finished reading the Avengers book.

Tony went over to the fireplace and scooped Jack up into his arms, and the puppy woke up just long enough to get comfortable on the couch with the rest of them, then he was snoring softly with his head in Pepper's lap.

It was a relaxing way to spend the morning, and much better than other possibilities.


	45. Chapter 45

Peter wasn't the only one to nap that morning. Tony was asleep as well, leaning against Pepper, who was caressing the back of his head, idly, while watching movies with Romanoff and Strange, and Bruce dozed off reading the Avenger book in front of the fire. They were all woken up, though, when the others started coming in from outside, and Peter sat up, stiffly, when he heard Ned's voice from the changing area by the door. By the time Ned was at the dining room table, Peter was on his feet and had joined him and MJ both, ready to spend some time with his friends and find out what they had been doing that morning.

"How do you feel?" MJ asked, taking one side of Peter, while Ned sat on the other and pulled out his camera to let Peter see the photos that he'd been taking.

"I'm just a little stiff and sore," he assured her. "Did you guys go sledding?"

"Yeah." It was Ned who answered before MJ could. "We used the innertubes and made a chain. Clint thought that we could make the hill faster if we stay in one spot and slide over and over there – it'll ice it over with the friction on the snow. Then we can have the fast side, and the slower side for those who don't care for the idea."

"Did it work?"

"Of _course_ it worked," Clint said, coming up behind them and putting his arm around Peter, echoing the hugs that he tended to get from Romanoff, Tony and Pepper. He clearly wanted to wrestle Peter down, but instead put his chin on the top of the boy's head and ruffled his fingers through his hair, instead, respecting that it probably wasn't the time to be too physical just yet. "I'm a genius at those kind of things. When we're done eating, I'm going to go back out and see if the thin layer of new snow that's falling will make it even faster, or if it'll slow me down."

"Will Doctor Strange let _you_ come, too?" MJ asked as Clint let Peter go and went into the kitchen to see about a cup of coffee and to offer any assistance with lunch preparations.

"I don't know," Peter said, blushing for no reason at the question – or maybe the fact that it was her asking – which meant that she wanted his company, maybe?

"He _might_ ," Strange said, walking out of the kitchen holding a cup of coffee, as well. The doctor was wearing jeans and a thick gray sweater, and even after a week at a cabin in the woods, he still looked as sharp and well kept as always. The rest of the men weren't quite as well groomed, and there was a lot more facial hair being sported than there had been in the beginning of the trip. "We'll see what happens after lunch, all right?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Everyone ended up coming to the table, including Stark, who woke from his nap looking grumpy, but settled himself with a cup of coffee and a from the behind hug when checking in with Peter to see how he was feeling. By then the boy was sliding through Ned's camera, looking at sledding photos – which even included a couple of Elmer going down the hill with them, proving that the man was making the most of being snowed in with them.

Lunch was chili – either alone with crackers and hastily made cornbread, or with hot dogs to make chili dogs – and they all ate, hungrily, discussing their morning. Not that those who stayed inside had a lot to tell, but Steve mentioned that he thought the snow might be slowing down, and Ned said that he thought he heard some rumbling and brought up the possibility that there might have been some kind of avalanche somewhere up in the mountains or something.

"We'd probably be okay here," he said, shrugging. "There are a lot of trees protecting the area. It'd have to be something big to pose a threat to the cabin, I imagine."

"I'd imagine so," Strange agreed, buttering a piece of cornbread.

"Don't wander off, though," Tony told the teens. "We don't want to have to go looking for anyone if something comes up."

"If we did, though, you could just go Ironman and come find us," Ned pointed out. "Like you guys found Elmer. Just whoosh in and save the day."

"Or we could leave you out there to get eaten by a _moose_ ," Stark told him with an amused smile. "So don't test me. Okay?"

Ned wasn't cowed, and his grin showed what he thought of Tony's threat. He nodded, though, always amazed when he found himself bantering with Ironman – or Captain America or one of the others.

"Yes, sir."

When they were finished eating, Ned helped Steve do the dishes. MJ and Elmer sat at the table with Natasha and Pepper, looking through pictures while Clint and Bruce discussed going back out to the sledding hill once more if Strange allowed Peter to join them. Stephen and Tony took Peter as far as the couch and the doctor ran him through several quick and easy tests to make sure he wasn't going to keel over on them, and then double checked his hip to make sure that the wound hadn't taken any damage the evening before.

"You're not to go crazy and try to do too much," Strange told him, using a lot of heavy bandages to cover the gunshot wound for extra protection. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"No wrestling with Clint – or anyone else – and no running."

"Okay."

"For that matter, I don't want you walking up the sledding hill."

"But-"

"We can pull him up the hill," Tony suggested, winking at the boy. "We'll put him on a sled and someone can play sled dog."

Peter had done it for Tony at the start of the trip, after all.

"Is there a winch accessory on your Ironman suit?" the doctor asked.

"No, but it's worth thinking about."

"How's he doing, doc?" Clint asked, coming into the living room with Bruce.

"He'll live."

"So, can he come out to play with us?"

"No roughhousing," Strange told him.

"Scout's honor."

"I _mean_ it."

"I _hear_ you."

Peter grinned.

" _And_ you have to pull me up the hill, he says."

"What?"

"I don't want him testing that hip with any strenuous activity," Strange said, repeating what he'd already told Tony. He looked at Peter. "And if you get tired, you're done. I don't want you wearing yourself out trying to do too much."

"Yeah. Okay."

"I mean it."

"I know."

"You can always come sledding _with_ us," Tony said, amused and not trying to hide it. Strange was such a _mother hen_ sometimes. Not at all like _he_ was. "That way you can make sure everyone is doing what you tell them to do…"

Obviously, Stephen had been contemplating a nice warm afternoon in the cabin – maybe cuddled up on the sofa with a cup of coffee a good book and possibly even Natasha. His expression was bland as he looked at Tony, but he shrugged and nodded.

"I might do just that."

"Are you done with Peter?" Clint asked, impatiently.

"Yes."

"Then let's get you bundled up and get going."

Hawkeye waved at Ned and MJ and the kids headed for the door to get dressed to go back outside. Peter got up and joined them, with Clint providing a steadying hand to keep him from doing too much bending over and made a show of wrapping his scarf around his neck and face – and then tightening it a little too tight and pretending to throttle him with it. Strange rolled his eyes at that, but didn't say anything. Bruce went with them – to provide some adult supervision, he told Tony – although he was having a good time, too.

"Should he really be outside with them?" Pepper asked, allowing her concern to show now that Peter wasn't there to see it.

"He's healed enough to have some time outside," Strange assured her. "And smart enough to know when to stop and give himself a chance to rest."

She didn't look convinced.

"Do you really think so? He can lose track of things when he's having fun."

He _was_ a teenaged boy, after all.

Strange shrugged, acknowledging that it might not be entirely the case.

"No. Which is the whole point of going out there with them."


	46. Chapter 46

That afternoon was a good one for Peter.

The sledding hill experiment by Clint worked even better with the thin layer of snow over the iced sliding strip. Barton went down it first to try it out and the speed that he reached was exciting – even for a guy that got his thrills flying a super jet. The rest of the hill wasn't quite as fast, but just as much fun as Peter had remembered, even though his first time up the hill Ned and MJ had willingly pulled him up by the rope that was attached to the sled and he felt like a piece of useless baggage. When they got to the top MJ doubled up with him, riding in front of him so she could put her feet down if she thought they were going faster than was sensible. He hadn't argued, but he did assure her that as long as the sled didn't spill them, he was going to be fine.

After that first slide down the hill MJ relaxed her vigilance a little – as did Ned and Clint. It took a little longer for the others once they arrived and started playing on the hillside as well. After being towed up the slope a few times by whoever happened to be heading up the hill at the same time that he'd reached the bottom, he pointed out that he felt okay and could probably walk himself up. Strange had objected immediately, and had been backed absolutely by Pepper, Tony and even Elmer, who had also been close enough to hear the conversation and offered to pull the boy up the hill for his next run rather than have him chance opening the wound the man had put on the boy in the first place.

It was the only drawback to a very good afternoon, and it allowed him enough respite that he lasted most of the day before he started to flag. The sky was beginning to fade from light gray to a darker gray when Strange told Stark and Natasha that he was going to head in to warm up and then start dinner and coffee. Pepper offered to assist him and the two headed back to the cabin. Tony had been watching as Steve towed Peter up the hill, joking with the boy about hooking Jack up to the tow rope and setting up a steak to dangle in front of him as encouragement to pull. He turned from his almost constant (and somewhat unconscious) observation of Peter and nodded when Strange told him to keep an eye on Peter for him.

While he waited for the others to get tired, or for the waning light to fade so much that it was too dangerous for them to sled any longer, Tony activated his suit and had Friday scan all of the slopes that were even close to their location for any sign of weakness that might pose a threat to his little group. They couldn't always rely on Peter and his spider senses, after all. And certainly couldn't expect the boy to repeat the astounding feat of the night before.

"Everything alright?" Romanoff asked once he'd satisfied himself that all was well in every other area and had deactivated the suit.

"Yeah. Just checking, you know?"

"I do," she told him. "And I can appreciate it, too."

"Looks good. We shouldn't have to worry about any surprises tonight, anyway."

"Good. I'm going to go in and warm up."

Bruce heard her and decided to go with her.

"We won't be far behind, I think," Stark told her, deciding that he'd stay until Peter was done.

Not that he didn't trust Steve or Clint to watch him, but Peter was his responsibility above and beyond anything else.

Even the inexhaustible energy of the kids – and Clint – were being tested by the countless runs that they'd made on the hill that afternoon. Steve would be able to go forever, he knew, but the rest were going to be ready for a quiet evening in front of the fire – or at the table playing board games.

 _He_ was, too.

OOOOOOOO

Dinner was cooking when the last of them finally gave up for the night. The cabin smelled of stew and freshly baked bread, although it wasn't quite ready to be served. Smiling at the fun he'd had – and the fact that he'd made it all the way through the day, Peter shed his winter clothing and went to sit at the table with Tony and Ned, who was reliving every run that they'd made down the hill that afternoon, it seemed.

"Coffee?" Pepper asked Tony, coming out of the kitchen when they reached the table and brushing a hand through Peter's wet hair, briefly, before winking at Ned cheerfully.

"Please."

"How do you feel?" Steve asked, joining them at the table to sit for a minute, drying a very wet Jack with the old towel that he'd brought with him for that very purpose.

"I'm a little worn out," Peter admitted. "It was fun, though."

"It was fun having you out there with us, again," MJ told him, sincerely, when she joined them. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Peter blushed. As usual.

"Thanks."

"How long until dinner?" Tony asked Pepper when she brought him a cup of coffee and set a cup of hot chocolate in front of Peter who smiled a thank you to her but didn't want to interrupt the conversation Tony was having with her.

"About ten minutes. Do you guys mind setting the table?"

"Of course not."

Peter got up, too, even though Tony frowned and would have motioned for him to sit back down. He didn't reach for any plates or anything heavy; he just grabbed the silverware and started putting it on the table while Ned brought in the plates and MJ and Tony started bringing out the bowls and butter and other accessories that would be needed.

"Dinner's ready, guys," Pepper called, drawing the attention of those who had decided to find the fireplace to warm up rather than the table.

A moment later, everyone was gathered around the table, and the stew and bread were brought out.

"Big plans for tonight, Tony?" Stephen asked, sitting between Natasha and Clint, and cutting slices of one of three loaves of bread that he'd baked.

No one asked when he'd made the dough, or seemed to notice that it hadn't been in the kitchen rising all afternoon. It was a welcomed addition to the meal, though.

"Everyone is on their own, tonight," Stark replied. "I'm tired, and I'm going to relax – and I refuse to be the last person to read the _Idiot's Guide to the Avengers_."

MJ smiled, pleased that her gift to Peter was so popular. She looked at Peter.

"Want to play chess?"

"Sure."

"Ned?"

"I'll play winner, yeah."

Strange had almost been worried that the group would decide that Peter was healthy enough to play Spoons and had actually been ready to veto it if the idea had been brought forth. He was a bit relieved, really, that no one mentioned it. He was all for a quiet evening of cards, though, and suggested Pinochle, which could have as many players as wanted to play.

When dinner was finished, Natasha and Clint made a quick job of the dishes. Pepper went into the living room and settled on the sofa with Tony. She was reading a paperback that she'd brought with her for just this sort of occasion and he had found the Avenger book and was reading it while acting as a pillow for her. Elmer didn't know how to play Pinochle and was getting a lesson in the game from Strange and Bruce while they waited for Natasha and Clint to join them.

Peter lost to MJ – he wasn't as good at the new 3-D chess as she and Ned were, yet, since he hadn't had as much time to play it, and when Ned took his spot, he went over to the living room and joined Pepper and Tony.

"What's the matter?" Pepper asked when he sat down and then leaned over and rested his head on her leg like he normally did with Natasha. She ran her fingers tenderly through his hair and brushed a hand along his cheek, ostensibly checking for fever, but really just wanting to touch him and remind him that she was always happy to spend time with him. "Did you lose already?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't _let_ her win, did you?" Pepper asked, softly, so MJ couldn't hear.

"No. She's better at the new one than I am. So is Ned."

"Now you know how I feel playing you," Tony pointed out, amused.

Peter smiled, but didn't point out that he hadn't bet anything on the outcome, so it wasn't quite the same.

"I'm going to go to bed."

"Feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired."

"I'll help you up the stairs."

"I'm okay."

"Stephen? Does Peter need me to help him up the stairs?"

"Yes."

Tony shrugged and gave the boy a what can you do look, and Peter rolled his eyes. Pepper waited until he sat up and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, Pepper."

He went to the table and told everyone else goodnight, as well, and then allowed Tony to help him up the staircase and even as far as his room.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. I'm good. I'm still sore enough that I probably would wake up if I tried to sleepwalk, and I don't feel anything like last night's avalanche thing."

"You know where I am if you do."

"Yeah."

"And you know I'm okay with you waking me."

"I know."

Stark met his gaze for a long moment, but while Peter looked tired, he didn't look anxious and he didn't look uneasy.

"I love you. Just in case you weren't sure."

Peter flushed with pleasure, feeling a great joy within him and he couldn't help but be amazed at how the simple phrase coming from Tony always made him feel so wanted. He could hear it a million times, and he just knew it would never get old.

"Thanks, Tony." He hugged him, feeling Stark's chin coming to rest on the top of his head and wondered if when he got his full growth, he'd be tall enough to return the favor and do that to Tony, instead. "I love you, too."

"Good. Goodnight."

"Night."

He went into the bedroom, changed into clean sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt and was asleep long before Ned came to bed, too.


	47. Chapter 47

"Did he sleepwalk?"

Strange shrugged and looked over at the boy sleeping curled up in the beanbag chair closest to the fire. All one could really see of him was a shock of dark hair with the blanket that was pulled all the way up and over his face, but there was no doubt who it was under the blanket.

"Natasha didn't get any indication that he was in trouble, so I'm not certain. He was there when I got up and came down to make coffee."

"Is he alright?"

"I just made sure he was breathing, Tony. Other than that, he looks fine and all I did was cover him with a blanket to make sure he doesn't catch a chill."

"Huh." Stark frowned and was clearly debating whether to go check on Peter himself – or to wake him up and send him back to bed. It was still pretty early in the morning, after all, and they were the only two actually awake, yet. "I suppose he's fine where he is, for now."

"Did you notice it stopped snowing sometime in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah. We'll give it a couple of days to allow Jim and Polly to dig their snowmobiles out, and then we should be out of here, I imagine."

"Ours will have to be dug out, as well."

"Yeah, I know. It'll give them something to do when they get tired of sledding."

"I don't know that they will."

Tony smiled.

"Then it'll give _you_ something to do."

He was pretty sure Strange was done sledding. At least for this trip.

"I'll form a committee."

Stark snorted.

"There's coffee?"

Meaning did he actually brew some for everyone, or did the doctor simply think himself up a single cup for the moment, since no one else had been awake.

"Yes. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

Maybe he'd see if Stephen wanted to play that 3-D chess game. Stark had visions of becoming really good at it and beating Peter – and maybe winning some bets, for a change.

OOOOOOO

"If you don't wake up, you're going to miss breakfast…"

Peter tucked his head further under the blanket, ignoring the voice that was whispering in his ear. He couldn't ignore when someone sprawled on him, though, leaning over his chest and poking him in the side – but mercifully keeping clear of his hip, which wasn't up to horseplay just yet.

"You're not supposed to be hurting him."

"I'm _not_ hurting him. Am I _hurting_ you, Peter?"

"You're _killing_ me."

"See?"

"I'm going to tell Natasha…"

"She's the one who _sent_ me."

"To wake him up. Not to sit on him."

Peter pulled his head out from under the blanket and looked at Clint and Bruce, sleepily. He noticed several things at once; the first being that he was sleeping in a beanbag chair and not up in his room with Ned snoring in his ear. He thought back to the night before, but couldn't remember getting up – but also didn't remember having any weird dreams, either.

Another thing he noticed was that bright sunlight was shining through the dining room window for the first time in days. He also couldn't miss that Hawkeye had his butt firmly planted in the middle of Peter's chest, even though most of his weight was actually distributed on the bean bag on either side of Peter, so it was hardly a burden – much less causing any pain.

"Are you hungry, Peter?" Bruce asked as Barton stretched himself out across the boy's chest, perpendicular to the way Peter was laying. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"What are we having?"

Barton twisted around and smirked.

"French toast."

"Bet Tony loves that…"

"Natasha asked for it, specifically," Clint told him, still smiling – and still sitting on Peter, only _now_ he was wrapping himself up in the boy's blanket, gradually stealing the cover from him. "If Tony wants something else, he's going to have to volunteer to cook."

"Come eat, Peter," he heard Steve call from the general direction of the dining room table. "It's getting cold."

"I _can't_ ," Peter replied, and now it was _his_ turn to smirk. "Clint is _sitting_ on me."

"I told you no roughhousing," Natasha said, unseen by any of the three.

"He's lying, Nat," Clint responded, wriggling his rear against Peter but now completely flat on him to prove he wasn't sitting up if she were to come looking. "I'm just waking him – exactly like you asked."

"With his butt in my ear, practically," Peter said. "I think I'm going to suffocate."

"Clint…"

Natasha's voice held a warning, and Barton rolled his eyes and grinned. Then he rolled off Peter, taking the blanket with him and getting to his feet.

"You win this one," he whispered, pretending to be a lot more sinister than his amused expression really allowed. "But _next_ time, Peter Parker… you'll end up in a snowbank."

"Bring your army, _Arrow boy_ ," Peter told him, reaching a hand up so that Clint could help him to his feet. Which he did, carefully, making sure that Peter had his legs under him before letting him go. "You'll need one."

They headed to the dining room, still smiling, and although Peter ached a bit, he felt pretty good, really. His hip hurt, but it was a throbbing that wasn't the stabbing pain that was so agonizing. He saw that everyone was already seated at the table, aside from Ned and Strange, who were apparently the cooks that morning. Ned was bringing out a platter of sausages and eggs, and Strange had set a large plate of French toast in front of Tony, beside the empty space that was obviously being saved for Peter. Peter couldn't help but notice the doctor's smug expression when the boy sat down gingerly between Stark and Pepper.

"You guys didn't have to wait for me," he said, apologetically.

"We wanted to make sure there was plenty for you," Strange told him, sitting in his place directly across from Tony and beside Natasha, who was amused at the byplay that was going on around her.

She knew how much Strange loved to dig at Tony by feeding Peter anything with cinnamon – usually French toast, of course – and even better, _Tony_ knew it, too. Peter loved French toast – almost as much as Natasha did, so he was a willing accomplice on the days that Stephen had the opportunity to do something like this, and she couldn't wait for Tony's response. Which wouldn't be right away – and maybe not even during the trip but would certainly come.

"Thanks."

The people at the table began helping themselves to the spread in front of them, and Peter took a few slices of French toast. He wanted to ask Tony if he'd been sleepwalking, or how he'd ended up in the beanbag chair, but no one seemed to be concerned when he looked at Pepper, or at Natasha, and Tony simply had the resigned expression he normally wore when Dr Strange was getting the upper hand in their verbal and sometimes not so subtle sparring.

"It stopped snowing," Ned told him, unnecessarily. "Do you think we can go snowshoeing after breakfast?"

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but Peter shook his head.

"I'm probably not up to that much activity, yet," he admitted. "If it's okay for you guys to go, though, you should go without me. Just make sure you take a lot of pictures, so I see what you find out there."

Ned looked at Stark, who looked surprised that Peter hadn't made him argue about allowing him to go. Tony nodded.

"If someone is willing to go with you. I don't want you out there alone."

"I'll go," Steve said. "If someone will watch Jack for me."

"I can watch him," Peter assured him. "I think I'm going to stick close to the cabin this morning, at least."

He was tired, still. He might just go back to bed after breakfast.

"I'd like to go, too," MJ admitted, looking guilty for wanting to leave Peter.

He understood, though. It wasn't something you could do every day in the city, after all. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity when it was up.

Clint, Bruce and Elmer all decided that they would go, as well, and the group was big enough to reassure Tony that they wouldn't have any problems. Pepper volunteered herself and Tony to dish duties, freeing the others to leave as soon as they were finished eating – which didn't take long. Those going out for the morning cleared their dishes and then headed for the door, stopping in the anteroom to get bundled up. Elmer made sure to grab his camera as well and in less than fifteen minutes, the cabin was quiet except for Jack, who whined when he realized that Steve had left without him.

"Did I sleepwalk?" Peter asked the others, scooping up the puppy and rubbing his belly to distract him.

"Probably," Tony replied, with a shrug. He took a sip of his coffee, clearly not in any hurry to get started on the dishes. "Stephen found you in the beanbag chair this morning."

"With no indication that you actually did anything," Strange told him. "You weren't chilled, and there was no sign that you went outside."

"Maybe Ned was snoring," Natasha suggested. "And you were just looking for a quiet place to sleep."

He gave her a dubious look and she smiled and shrugged.

"Maybe."

"I don't remember doing anything after going to bed."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Peter," Tony told him. "It's just down the stairs. No harm, no foul, as they say."

"Is there anything you want to do this morning?" Pepper asked.

"I could help with dishes."

"We can handle the dishes," Stark told him. "I don't want you on your feet that long."

"I was, yesterday."

"You were sledding. On your rear."

"Give it another day," Strange suggested. "Let's make sure all the activity from yesterday doesn't cause a setback."

"We'd know by now, though, wouldn't we?"

"Just do what I tell you, Peter. It won't hurt you to miss washing dishes one more day."

He shrugged but didn't argue. He was aware of the fact that none of them would probably side with him on the issue – and Strange was right about it not killing him to take another day off before trying to do anything else. He rubbed Jack's velvety ears, watching as the puppy's eyes closed in bliss and then kissing him on the nose.

"What are you guys going to do?" he asked.

"After dishes? I think we're going to make it a relaxation day and just play cards," Pepper said. "Do you want to play?"

She was pretty sure of the answer, but wanted to make sure he understood that he was invited.

"No. Thank you."

Natasha frowned.

"Are you restless?"

"No. Not like you think, anyway. I just wish I would have brought a book to read. It would give me something to do."

"What book?" Strange asked, and Peter smiled, aware that the doctor was offering to get him one.

"Hunt For Red October?"

"That's a movie," Tony told him, remembering that he'd said it was one of Ned's favorites.

"It's a book, too."

A moment later it was on the table. A fairly thick book with a picture of a submarine on the cover. Peter smiled.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They all watched as Peter picked up the book in one hand, scooped Jack up with the other, cuddling the puppy easily, and then walked to the living room and settled on the sofa. Stark got up and disappeared with Pepper into the kitchen, and Natasha and Strange cleared all the remaining dishes and then wiped down the table. When the dishes were in the dishwasher and they settled down to play, Natasha went into the living room to see if Peter needed anything.

She found the boy and the puppy both sleeping. Peter with his head on the soft arm of the sofa, sprawled along the length of it, with Jack sprawled beside him, cuddled up against the boy's chest. She smiled, pulled her camera out and took a couple of pictures, then carefully picked up the book that was threatening to fall onto the floor and set it on the coffee table.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked, reaching for the deck of cards Stephen handed him.

"He's asleep. Both of them."

"Good."

He couldn't get into any trouble that way. At least, not with them all right there, after all. For that matter, neither could Jack.


	48. Chapter 48

It was Jack who woke Peter.

The puppy's head jerked up as he went from asleep to awake in an instant, and that sudden motion was all it took to pull Peter from his nap. He realized that he felt that odd tingle that warned him something was going to happen – or that someone was coming – and he sat up, grunting when he did it too quickly to please his hip and caused a stab of pain to course through his side.

The puppy jumped off the sofa, landed in an ungainly heap and made a beeline for the door, while Peter got up and did the same, reaching for Jack before stomping his feet into his boots. Obviously the puppy had his own alert system.

"What's up?" Tony asked, already halfway to the door.

He'd been sitting at the table playing cards, enjoying the peacefulness of an almost empty cabin when the movement in the living room had drawn his attention and he'd stood automatically when he saw that Peter was on his feet and heading to the door.

"Someone's coming," Peter answered, snapping Jack's leash onto the puppy's collar and opening the door.

Stark did the same thing Peter did; simply stuffed his feet into his boots and followed the boy, ready to activate his suit in an instant, if needed. Pepper, Strange and Natasha weren't far behind, and when Peter went out onto the front porch, he turned his head to the left, beyond the igloo, realizing that now he could hear a low rumbling sound somewhere in the distance. He set Jack down, but held the end of his leash and watched.

"What is it, Tony?" Pepper asked, frowning.

She heard the rumbling, too.

"Avalanche?" Strange asked, taking a stance that Stark recognized as the same one Peter had used to stop the slide that had nearly buried them all.

It was obvious where the Mind stone had pulled the magical abilities it loaned to Peter from.

"No," Peter said, shaking his head. He was calm, they could all see – although he was shivering and immediately wished he'd grabbed a coat. The clear skies had lost all insulating cloud cover and it was cold out. "It's some _one_ , not a some _thing_."

Before Stark could go Ironman to see what, a movement through the trees caught everyone's attention, now, and a huge, brightly painted snow machine came rumbling through a space between the trees. It looked like a snowmobile, only it was much larger, with wider tracks, and it actually had a cabin that appeared to be large enough to hold several people. Behind the first one came another, and then another, until five of the machines were all heading through the deep snow that blanketed what would normally be the parking lot and came to a stop near the metal crate that had originally been used to carry all of their supplies.

Behind the snow machine was a small convoy of snowmobiles, with riders dressed in what Natasha and Tony immediately recognized as winter military outfits.

Jack barked, his little body tense as he moved to place himself between the weird monsters and the people on the porch, and Peter smiled at the attempt and picked the puppy up to keep him from getting underfoot. The people on the snowmobiles parked behind the snow machines and the doors to the snow machines opened, with two people emerging from each one. These people were also dressed – for the most part – in the military outfits, and clearly more prepared for the cold than Peter was.

Peter thought that he recognized Polly as one of those who got out of the first machines, though, and she waved at the small group on the porch, but waited by the snow machine as her companion turned to a different person, and barked a single order. That man started shouting orders, and waved the others to the side of the cabin where a small group of mostly buried snowmobiles could just be seen - although a couple of them stopped to look at the igloo.

The first – a _man_ to judge by the deep voice that had given the order – broke away from the group, pulling his hood down and taking off the sunglasses he'd been wearing as he and Polly walked over to the porch.

Peter realized that he recognized him even before he read the nametag on the man's heavy coat, and the man smiled when he saw the boy – winking at him before he turned to Stark.

"Mr. Stark? I hear you have something of a situation, sir."

"Grady…"

Tony turned to Peter, surprised.

"You _know_ him?"

"I met him in Phoenix."

"You have a good memory, Peter," the colonel told him. Obviously, he remembered Peter, as well. He looked over the boy's shoulder at Natasha, and nodded a hello. "Agent Romanoff. It's good to see you."

"Colonel Gradymatson," Romanoff said, also nodding, and just as surprised to see him.

"How did you know about our situation, colonel?" Tony asked, curiously.

"Nick Fury called my general a few days ago," the colonel explained. "My general told me to take care of it – since we are stationed probably as close as anyone. We've been bivouacked at the drop off point – where you parked your jet – and have just been waiting for the snow to stop before coming to get you. When Peter called me last night, we knew it was safe, so we gathered our guide-" he gestured to Polly – "and I started us out right after breakfast."

Stark turned to Peter.

"You called him?"

"No." he looked at Grady. "I _did_?"

"On my personal cell." The man grinned. "I wondered how you knew the number, but remembered that I gave you my card and told you to keep in touch." He looked up at the cabin, and then all around them. "Not exactly what I had in mind, son."

"Let's go inside," Tony suggested, shivering a little. "Polly?"

"Thank you, Mr. Stark."

She walked up the porch steps and he offered her a steadying hand since there was a little slush on the deck and walked her into the door. Peter and Grady followed, with the colonel sluffing off his coat and hanging it with the others before kicking his heavy boots off as well, obviously not willing to track water and slush into the living room.

Peter made the introductions as the colonel took Jack into his arms to make friends with the puppy and make him stop looking at him so suspiciously and they all ended up sitting at the dining room table.

"What are your orders, colonel?" Stark asked as Pepper and Strange went into the kitchen to find more coffee cups.

Peter felt the tingle that told him Stephen wasn't going to bother brewing the coffee to offer their visitors – he assumed Strange didn't want to miss the colonel's answer.

"To evacuate you and your party, Mr. Stark." He looked around the interior of the cabin. "There _have_ been some minor avalanches and we were worried about waiting too much longer – although all reports show the snowpack isn't too unstable at the moment."

" _Most_ of our party is out snowshoeing," Tony told him, as Pepper returned with a cup of coffee that the colonel took with a smile of thanks.

"That's not a problem," Grady assured him. "We can dig out your snowmobiles, and your cargo container while we wait. We thought about coming in with helicopters, but were assured that it wouldn't be the best course of action – just in case. Your Quinjet should be able to pick up your supplies – but it might not be a good idea to do that right away."

Stark shrugged.

"It's sleds, skis and snowshoes, for the most part. It can wait until spring thaw as far as I'm concerned."

They'd used up most of the foodstuff that they'd brought.

"When the rest of your party returns, we'll give them a chance to warm up, and pack," Grady told him. "Then, if it's alright with you, we'll feed everyone a warm lunch – _my_ guys included – before we head out."

"Not _Peter_ , though," Tony said, before Strange could speak up.

The boy flushed, but he knew the reasoning behind his exclusion, and he agreed that he wasn't going to be able to handle the rattling of the snow machines, much less the jet, for as long as it was going to take them to get home.

Grady frowned, looking at Stark and then at Peter, and back to Stark.

"Why not?"

"It's a long story."

The colonel raised an eyebrow, and shrugged.

"I have nothing but time, Mr. Stark."


	49. Chapter 49

"So, you don't think Peter could handle the trip to the jet – much less the flight home?" the colonel asked, just to clarify, once Stark had explained what had happened and that Strange was more experienced than the colonel's medic and more than qualified to make the assessment of Peter's medical condition.

"It's not a risk I want to take with him," Tony replied, looking over at Peter for a moment before turning his attention back to the colonel. "I want to get everyone _else_ out, though, and would appreciate the assist."

"How are you planning on getting _him_ home, then?"

Stark might have been annoyed at the line of questioning, but he wasn't. It was obvious that the colonel liked Peter and was genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

"Stephen and I are going to keep him right here," Tony told him. "We'll convalesce him a few more days, and then when he can handle the trip, we'll take him out on a snowmobile and have the jet come back for us."

"I could leave a few men with you."

"That's not necessary, colonel," Stark replied. "We'll be fine."

Grady nodded his acceptance of that. It was _Ironman_ , after all. Who was he to doubt him?

"And the guy that shot Peter? Are you planning on pressing charges?"

"It was an _accident_ ," Peter said, speaking up.

Tony nodded.

"He's right. Rupp was in a bad spot and we startled him. I'm not planning on pursuing any legal action."

Grady nodded again.

"I'm going to go check on my people," he said, standing up. "We'll want to move out as soon after lunch as we can to make sure we have plenty of daylight to get back."

"You'll make sure Elmer gets home?" Pepper asked. "He drove up in a truck, but it's going to buried under all this snow. He'll need a ride."

"I'll see to it, personally," Grady promised.

"Can I come outside with you?" Peter asked.

The colonel smiled, but looked over at Tony – in case Stark preferred the boy to stay inside. Tony's shrug indicated that it was up to him. If he didn't mind Peter's company, then Tony wasn't going to make him stay away.

"Of course."

The boy got up a little stiffly, and headed for the door with the colonel and Polly, limping a little, and Natasha made rueful face.

"Well… _now_ we know what he was doing last night."

"Yes." Of course, Fury was the one who had put things in motion, so Peter's call had simply been coincidence – maybe. With the Mind stone, it was impossible to tell, really. "I'm going to call Steve and get them back here to start packing."

OOOOOOO

While they'd been talking in the cabin there had been a lot of activity going on outside. The snowmobiles were already almost completely dug out, and with the tracks in the snow from those coming in, there wouldn't be any problem getting everyone out in the snow machines and the snowmobiles.

Bundled in his coat and boots, Peter walked beside Grady as the colonel checked in with the activities of his men, slowing his normal pace to match the boy's painful limp. They caught up on what had been going on with Peter – mainly his adoption by Tony, which Grady had heard of, of course.

"He's treating you right?" the colonel asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you living at the tower or at the Avenger facility?"

"The Avenger facility," Peter told him. "It's a bit of a commute to school and for Pepper, but I like it there so I'm not complaining."

"I imagine it's an exciting place to be." He grinned and slapped the boy's back. "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks."

OOOOOOOO

Peter was ready to get off his feet by the time Steve and the others returned from their snowshoeing excursion. He went into the cabin, pulled off his boots and coat and eased himself down into the sofa to sit next to Natasha, who was very good at packing and had her bags ready to go. She smiled a greeting, and put an arm around him, pulling his chilled body up against her side.

"Anything interesting going on out there?"

"They dug out the snowmobiles," he reported. "I think some of them are sledding, now, killing time until lunch."

She laughed at that.

"What's Grady doing?"

"Steve just got back. They're going to load up the drop crate once he tells them what goes in it."

Sure enough, the door opened and not only did a lot of cold air come into the cabin, but so did Ned, MJ, Clint, Bruce and Elmer. They all looked chilled but Ned, especially, looked excited by all of the military activity that he'd seen – or maybe just the big snow machines. Tony met them all in the living room and sat on the arm of the sofa to catch them up with what was going on. Which didn't take long.

"So. We're going to pack all our things and get them ready to go. Then we're going to eat lunch before you guys head out. He turned to MJ and Ned. "Pepper is going to make sure you guys both get home, safe. Elmer? Colonel Gradymatson is going to make sure _you_ get home. You'll probably have to wait until spring to get your truck, though, from what they're saying."

They all headed for their rooms to pack. Peter went up the stairs with an assist by Clint on one side and Ned on the other, but he wasn't in any real hurry to pack, since he, Tony and Strange would stay in the cabin until the next morning and then Strange would just jump them home, or portal them. Either way, he wouldn't have to worry about snowmobiles or a flight on the jet. He helped Ned find all his stuff and shove it back into his bags, and then Ned helped him pack up most of his.

"This was a good idea, Peter," his friend told him. "I really thought we were going to go to Hawaii or something, but Montana was a good choice."

"Thanks for coming," Peter said. "I'm glad your mom let you. Sorry we got stranded."

"I'm _not_. It's like Christmas break or something, only hanging out with the Avengers."

"But now you're going to be behind."

"It's no big deal. Besides, everyone is going to ask where we've been, and MJ and I can tell them stranded in the mountains with Ironman and the others. Where were they on their birthdays? Who _cares_? It wasn't hanging out with Tony Stark and then being rescued by the Army."

"Don't tell anyone I got shot, okay?"

"Yeah. Think you'll be in school on Monday?"

"I'm going to try to convince Tony and Dr. Strange to let me, yeah."

"Good." Ned grabbed his bags and headed for the stairs, unwilling to allow Peter to help him carry them.

Peter walked over to MJ's room, tapped on the door only opening it when she gave him permission. She was sitting on the bed, trying to stuff a sweater into her bag without folding it. It wasn't working.

"Do you need help?" he asked, leaning against the door frame, his arms awkwardly crossed over his chest.

She shook her head.

"I need to remember how I got everything into the bag to begin with and them replicate that."

"Yeah. I'll need to do that, too."

"Thanks for inviting me," she told him. "I had a good time. It was amazing."

"Thanks for coming," he said. "It wouldn't have been as much fun without you here."

She blushed at the sincerity of the compliment and got up, picking up her bag.

"Are you and Mr. Stark going to be alright here by yourselves?"

"Dr. Strange is staying, too. I think he's worried we'd starve to death if he's not here to cook."

She smiled at that and walked over to the door with her bag in one hand.

"You're coming back to school, soon?"

"Yeah."

"Good." MJ gave him a one-armed, awkward hug and then kissed his cheek. "I'll see you downstairs."

He stared at her retreating back, his face burning and his ears practically on fire. He was still in the same position when Clint walked by, holding a bag and talking to Bruce, who also had a bag in his hand. It hadn't taken either of them long to pack since they'd only been there a couple of days.

"What's wrong with _you_?" Clint asked, curiously.

"What?"

"I said, why do you look like someone hit you in the back of the head with a board?"

"I _don't_. I mean, I'm fine. It's nothing."

Both men gave him an odd look, but then just shook their heads.

"Come on, Peter. I can smell lunch – and I'm hungry."

"Yeah."


	50. Chapter 50

_A/N: Too many chapters coming at you guys? A slow Sunday can make for a few updates._

OOOOOOO

Lunch was boisterous. It would have been hard to be otherwise with the addition of fifteen soldiers and Polly. Especially since Grady was the only one of the group who had ever met any of the Avengers – and even he hadn't met Tony before. Steve was the absolute center of attention when it came to the military people that were gathered around the table and the three card tables that had been 'found' by Strange in a pantry off the kitchen.

He handled it easily, very much used to having people surround him, wanting photos and autographs and to simply ask him about being Captain America. Natasha, Clint and Tony were all being gawked at, too, of course, and Ned – who was sitting beside Steve – was enjoying the attention immensely. Peter sat between Grady and Tony, and Pepper was on the other side of Tony and beside Polly, who enjoyed the meal, even if she didn't really seem all that excited about lunch with the military – _or_ the Avengers.

When the meal was finished Grady assigned four of his guys to dishwashing duties while the rest sorted out which snowmobiles and snow machines everyone was going to be riding in. They were going to leave two machines for Stark, Peter and Tony – who assured them that they didn't need anyone to come guide them out. They'd be able to follow the obvious tracks made when the others left – although they had no intention of doing that, of course.

When dishes were done, and bags were stowed in the snow machines to keep them in place and everyone was bundled into their snow gear for the chilly ride back, the group that was leaving said their goodbyes to the few that were staying. Strange walked out onto the porch with Natasha, who gave Peter a hug and told him to take care of the guys before leaving. Pepper and Tony were both hard-pressed to hide their amusement when MJ hugged Peter goodbye and told him that she'd see him at school the next week.

Peter had blushed, stammered a few words that sounded like a foreign language and had hugged her back. Then he'd told Ned to have a fun ride – and to see if Grady would let him drive one of the snow machines.

Finally, it was just Pepper, Peter and Tony in the cabin, and she hesitated.

"We're going to get back fairly late," she told Tony. "So I'll keep the kids at the compound tonight and take them home sometime in the morning."

Meaning that they were going to have to stay at the cabin at least through the next morning – probably a little later. Tony nodded, and pulled her into his arms for a kiss.

"We'll call before we come home. You're not working tomorrow, are you?"

"No. I'm going to soak in a hot bath for hours and shave my legs."

He smirked, winking at Peter.

"She always says the _sexiest_ things, doesn't she?"

The boy grinned, and Pepper kissed Tony soundly, before letting him go and hugging Peter.

"Try to keep them out of trouble, Peter."

"I will."

She pressed a kiss against his cheek and hooked an arm through theirs and let them walk her out onto the porch. Strange walked from the snowmobile Natasha had settled herself on and joined them on the porch, where Pepper hugged him, as well.

"Be good."

"Of course. Have a good trip."

She went to the snowmobile behind Natasha's and put on her helmet, while Peter, Tony and Stephen watched. The engines all started up and after a moment the first machine turned and headed back the way they had come, followed by all the others, one at a time, like baby ducks following their mother until they all vanished behind the trees. Eventually even the rumbling sounds faded.

"Alone at last," Tony said, slapping a hand onto Peter's shoulder. "What are we going to do with ourselves?"

Peter had spent the morning sleeping, so he was well rested.

"Can we go sledding?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They already packed all the sleds and innertubes."

He gestured to the drop crate, which had been loaded and sealed, ready to be picked up eventually.

"So? Dr. Strange can magic one up."

"You're not really up to sledding, Peter," Strange told him, reasonably. "Not to mention I don't feel like pulling you up the hill over and over – and I'm sure Tony feels the same way."

"You wouldn't have to," Peter reminded him – _them_. "Just make a portal at the bottom of the hill that goes to the top. I walk through, I'm at the top. I slide down and then walk through it again and back to the top. All I'm doing is sliding down the hill." He gave Strange a hopeful look. "Honestly, if you set it up, you guys don't even need to be on the hill at all."

"Oh, we're _not_ leaving you out there by yourself," Tony said.

"Why not?"

"Because you'll get eaten by a moose," Strange answered.

"Go get your snow pants on," Tony told him.

The boy gave him an excited smile and limped back into the cabin to do what he was told.

"Indulging him?" Strange asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"The kid got shot on his own birthday trip and missed a few days of fun," Stark said with a shrug. "I'll go Ironman and make sure no one is still in the area, and then we'll get a couple of chairs and sit at the bottom of the hill and let him wear himself out and have a good time. Then we'll be able to have a nice dinner and a relaxing evening, and everyone wins."

"That's smart, Tony."

Strange even looked impressed. Stark smiled.

"I thought so, too."

OOOOOOO

Despite everyone else being gone, Peter had a good afternoon. He always enjoyed the company of those around him, and Strange and Tony were two of his favorite people. Strange waited until Tony made sure the area was clear, and then moved all three of them to the bottom of the sledding hill. He then made a portal and summoned up an innertube which he handed over to Peter and told him to have at it.

Finally, he brought up a couple of fairly comfortable folding chairs for him and Tony, a small folding table that went between them and a never-ending coffee thermos with a couple of mugs.

Peter would go through the portal, find himself at the top of the hill and would slide down on the innertube and then grin and go back through the portal. He cajoled the two men to join him once or twice, but for the most part, he amused himself on the hillside for several hours before the ache in his hip, the freezing temperatures and the fading light finally forced him to call it a night.

The chairs, the table, the innertube and the portal all vanished, and it was almost a relief to Strange that he didn't have to repress his use of magic when he jumped the three of them back to the cabin rather than walking. Peter was told to get out of his snow clothes and relax on the sofa, while Tony built up the fire and turned on the heat in the living room.

"What do we want for dinner?" Strange asked them, sitting on the arm of the sofa and watching Stark stoke the fire until it was blazing brightly.

"Steak," came Tony's immediate request. "With all the trimmings."

Peter nodded his agreement, but he wasn't really a picky eater. True to Stark's prediction to Stephen earlier, the boy was weary from his day on the hill – even though he didn't have to walk up the hill every time. He was content to simply sit on the couch, soak up the heat and rest for a while.

"How's the hip?" Tony asked him when Strange headed into the kitchen.

"A little sore," Peter admitted. "I'm ready to be still for a while."

"And glad to not be on a snowmobile or the jet?"

"Yeah. That was a good call."

"We'll have Stephen check it out after dinner, but I want you to take it easy the rest of the night, okay?"

"Okay."

"You feeling alright other than that?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

Stark settled in the spot beside Peter, with an arm over the back of the sofa behind the boy. Peter picked up the book Strange had summoned him the night before and he started reading, while Stark pulled out his phone and browsed through his social media, both just spending time with the other while they waited for dinner – which Peter knew wouldn't take long considering the excessive tingle of magic he could feel coming from the general direction of the kitchen.


	51. Chapter 51

They ate dinner in the living room. It was just the three of them, after all, and it wasn't something incredibly messy, so Strange just brought their steaks, potatoes and carrots out to the coffee table and summoned up anything else they wanted – like coffee for the men and a cola for Peter. It was good, and they were all hungry. They'd had a busy day watching Peter sled, after all.

"Is there anything you haven't done here that you wanted to do?" Tony asked the boy when they were done eating and Strange had simply cleared the dishes with a thought, rather than get up from the other side of Peter.

"Like what?" he asked, curiously.

He realized that he felt a bit warm. He'd initially thought it was from the heat of the fire after being outside in the cold for so long, but he was warmer than he thought he should be, and wasn't sure if it was something he should mention. He didn't want to worry either man sitting on the couch with him.

"I don't know," Stark said, shrugging. "Something you thought you'd get to do during this trip, but it didn't come up."

"We didn't see any _moose_."

"Did you think that we would?" Stephen asked.

Peter shrugged.

"I guess not."

"We didn't see any _penguins_ , either," Tony pointed out.

"True."

Peter suddenly remembered something and pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Strange.

"You never told me what my new phone case will do."

"Wong came up with a summoning spell for it," Strange told him. "You'll have to have him with you when he sets it – to link it directly to you – but when it's activated, you'll be able to call it to you if you've lost it, or if you can't reach it and you're comfortable and don't want to get up but someone is calling you."

"Cool. Like the teleporting stone?"

"Similar. That's where he got the idea, I imagine." Strange smirked. "He _wanted_ to make a spell that would zap a person who tried to steal the case – _and_ the phone – but I thought that might not be the best of ideas."

"Probably not," Tony agreed. "The summoning spell is something you can only use when you're alone, too, don't forget. Or with Ned. We don't want people freaking out at school if you start experimenting with it there."

"Yeah. No. I'll be careful," Peter promised.

"We know you will," the doctor said. "Otherwise we wouldn't trust you with it."

Peter smiled at that.

"You could make a killing if you sold the technology. Phone companies would be tearing down your doors for a case that can't be stolen."

"It's not technology, though," Strange pointed out. "It's _magic_. No technology can do what magic can do…"

"Wait a minute," Stark said, holding up a hand. "I can fly. Can you?"

"With the cloak, yes."

"So, my tech does what your magic does…"

"Your Ironman suit is extremely impressive, Tony," Stephen acknowledged. "But you can't teleport in it."

"Can you go outside and do an immediate scan for moose?"

"No. I could use a spell, though."

"Would you have to look in a book for that spell?"

"Depends on the spell."

Peter realized that the conversation was taking a turn that he really didn't want it to take. Magic was formidable, and so was the technology that Tony had access to. He didn't want the two men – who were both very proud of their sphere of influence – to actually get into an argument about which was better. He started to reach for his phone and gasped when he accidentally jarred the injured hip. Which brought the argument to an immediate stop.

"Are you alright?" Stark asked.

"Yeah. Sorry." He bit his lower lip. "Just moved wrong."

"Did you hurt it on the hill?"

"No. It's just been sore all day. It's a _gunshot wound_ , after all."

"Let me take a look at it," Stephen said. "Then we'll find something more interesting to do than argue about which is better; magic or technology."

"They're both amazing," Peter reminded the men as he leaned toward Tony to allow the doctor access to the injured hip. "It's not really a contest. Especially the way you guys make them work together."

He winced when the bandage came off, exposing the wound to the open air and twisted around to try to get a look at it.

"You reopened it," Strange told him, dabbing at the crease with a medicated towelette and making Peter jump at the contact.

Tony held him fast, looking at the wound while the doctor assessed it. It had bled a little, but was simply red and raw, like before.

"Shouldn't it be healing a little better, Stephen?" he asked. "We know Peter heals quickly."

"A gunshot is a bit more serious than bruising, though," Strange reminded him. "It's not the same. He didn't recover from his cold any sooner than an average person would. Maybe some injuries aren't subject to his special abilities."

"So, the moral of the story is _don't get shot_ ," Stark told the boy with a wink, trying to take his mind off how much it was hurting, just then. "Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Words to live by," Strange agreed. He applied a medicated salve along the crease – one meant to numb the pain – and then covered the injury with several layers of thick bandages and taped them down. "I don't want you moving any more than necessary the rest of the night. All right?"

"I don't feel like doing anything, anyway," Peter admitted. He was tired, and sore, and suddenly had a thought. A very real fear that seized him for absolutely no reason. "You're not leaving me, though?"

"No," Tony told him, frowning and reaching out to touch his forehead, automatically. He was surprised to find that the boy was almost hot. "We're not going anywhere. Is it my imagination, or is he fevered?"

Strange frowned, too, and reached over to press his palm against the boy's forehead. Peter closed his eyes as the doctor ran his hand from his forehead to his cheek and kept it there for a moment.

"It isn't your imagination. He's fevered, and I'm an _idiot_."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's been going through _portals_ all afternoon, up and down the sledding hill. Each one dosing him with a little magical energy. Not a lot at a time, but I imagine that throughout the day it added up enough to cause the fever – and maybe a little delirium. And slowly enough for me not to notice. I didn't even consider it."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Tony told him, sincerely, brushing a hand against Peter's cheek. "We didn't, either."

"Magic is my specialty, though, Tony," Strange reminded him. "And we know how it can affect Peter. This one is definitely on me."

"It's not that bad," Peter told him. "I feel okay."

"He's _fine_ ," Stark said. "We'll let him sleep it off, and he'll be good to go by morning. Right, Peter?"

"Yeah. Even sooner."

Strange didn't look entirely convinced, but a pitcher of water appeared on the coffee table with a glass and the doctor filled it and handed it to the boy.

"Drink that." Peter didn't even argue. He drank the first glass and then asked for a refill and drank that one, too. Peter was suddenly dressed in loose fitting sweats instead of the somewhat damp jeans that he had been wearing, and a couple of blankets appeared. "Looks like a quiet night in, just like you planned, Tony."

Stark smiled and helped Strange get the boy situated on the sofa, but he brought Peter's head down to his leg instead of a pillow. He wanted to be able to keep track of the boy's temperature and he wanted to stay close by. The sofa was plenty big enough and comfortable enough for the three of them.

Peter just sighed, and closed his eyes. Just as the two men thought that he might be asleep, the boy stirred, coming awake with a start.

"Tony?"

"I'm here. Go back to sleep."

"I don't like it when you and Stephen argue…"

Stark looked over at Strange. Both of them could count on one hand how many times Peter had referred to the doctor by his first name – and he'd been sleepwalking, then.

"We're not arguing, Peter."

"It scares me."

"I know…" He _didn't_ , but now he _did_. The two looked at each other, as Stark stroked Peter's hair, trying to calm him, both wondering what the boy was sensing that they weren't. A clash of magic and technology? Of Ironman versus magician? If it were truly serious, it could be something that would be frightening. Maybe even catastrophic. There was a lot of power in that living room right then, and Tony shook his head. "We're friends, Peter. Friends might disagree, but they don't argue. Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

"Of course."

"Stephen?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Strange assured him.

Peter sighed and closed his eyes, again, relaxing. He was asleep in moments, his hand resting on Tony's leg.

"Well that was odd…" Stark said, softly.

"Yes. And a _warning_ , maybe?"

"But not from Peter…"

"No. I'd agree with you on that."

"Agree to disagree?"

"Absolutely."

"Want to play chess?"

"Yes. But not the 3-D one."

"Set up the board. I'm not good at the 3-D one, anyway."

"You're not that good at the 2-D one, either, I'll remind you. You lost a jet and a pony."

Stark smirked.

"You lost Wong and the sanctum."

"Good point."

Both men smiled at that reminder, and Strange got up to go get the chess board.


	52. Chapter 52

"Peter…?"

He opened his eyes and saw that Tony was crouched down next to the sofa on eye level with him. Which meant that the leg his cheek was resting on had to belong to Strange – unless someone else had joined them in the cabin while he'd been sleeping. Stark smiled, his hand reaching out to touch his forehead and then his cheek.

"Hey…"

"Good morning. How do you feel?"

"Sleepy."

 _"Warm?"_

He hesitated, taking stock, but then shook his head as well as he could without raising it up.

"No. I think I'm okay."

A hand that _wasn't_ Tony's touched his forehead, as well.

"I agree," came Dr. Strange's voice from somewhere above him. "The fever's down, at any rate. Without moving, we're not going to know how your hip feels."

"It doesn't hurt too much," he said, uncertain if he really wanted to challenge the pain to return by wiggling around too much.

Stark looked up.

"Do we feed him, Stephen? Or let him sleep."

"I'm hungry," Peter told them.

There was a chuckle and the hand on his forehead moved to his shoulder, patting him, carefully.

"Try sitting up, then, Peter," Strange suggested. "I don't want to feed you while you're laying on your side."

"More like you don't want him drooling on your _leg_ ," Tony corrected, a gleam of good humor in his eyes.

"Exactly."

Gentle hands – Tony's and Strange's – helped support him while he sat up, with the blanket that had been covering him falling to the sofa beside him, cushioning his injured hip. He looked around and saw that the sofa was bundled with blankets and pillows, showing every sign that he wasn't the _only_ one who had slept on the sofa the night before. Stark got up and sat on the coffee table, watching him, intently, clearly looking for pain in his expression.

"I'm okay," he told him. "Did you guys sleep out here?"

"Yeah." Tony shrugged. "The bedroom is lonely without Pepper in it."

Strange snorted, amused.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Don't say _French toast_ ," Tony warned him. "I will throw you in a snowbank, again."

Peter smiled at that – but this time he almost believed him.

"Oatmeal."

Stark scowled at the choice, clearly wondering how anyone could make a meal of grain, but Stephen smirked.

"Would you like apples and cinnamon in it?"

Which made _Peter_ smile, too, since the doctor knew he preferred brown sugar and raisins, but was obviously goading Tony.

"Raisins."

"Spoilsport."

A tray with a large bowl of oatmeal, accompanied by a glass of orange juice and a plate of sausages appeared on the coffee table, and a moment later a much heavier meal of bacon, eggs and toast with hash browns appeared for Stark and Strange. They already had coffee.

As Peter started eating, Tony buttered a piece of toast.

"We're going to stick around here the rest of the day," he told Peter. "Mainly to give Pepper time to get MJ back home, but also just in case Colonel Gradymatson decides to send someone back to check on us. That way he doesn't think that we were abducted by aliens if they don't find anyone here."

"Okay."

"Your job today is to rest and recover so you don't look terrible when Pepper sees you. We don't want her worrying for nothing, right?"

"Yeah."

"Your fever is pretty well handled," Strange told him. "If you _can_ , it wouldn't hurt to sleep or read – anything that doesn't require any pressure on your injured side and helps keep you still."

"What are _you_ going to do?"

"As little as possible."

"Which is what _I_ have planned, too," Tony assured him. " _This_ was a good trip, but I need a break before going home. I was thinking I'd just keep you company – if you're interested?"

"Yes. Of course."

OOOOOOOO

The day wasn't completely without incident.

Peter was dozing on the sofa a few hours after breakfast. He wasn't worn out, but sleeping was a good escape from the constant throbbing in his hip, and having Tony close at hand was comforting enough that the man's solid presence was all it really took to let him relax. With him asleep and clearly not requiring much more than just company, Tony and Strange were playing Cribbage. Strange was sitting on the coffee table and Tony was on the sofa, the game on a card table between them and Peter curled up just within reach if Stark put his hand out – which he did on occasion, just to brush his palm against the boy's forehead or shoulder, reminding him that he was glad he was with him.

A strong tingle that signified both magical use and also a warning from his spider senses roused him from his nap and he sat up, startled, looking around.

"What?" Tony asked, looking over at him.

The boy didn't look alarmed, but he was alert.

"Wanda's-"

There was a knock on the front door, interrupting him, and they all looked over when the door opened, revealing Wanda Maximoff at the entrance.

"-coming…"

Tony smiled, and he and Strange both stood up as the woman walked over to the sofa.

"Wanda," Tony said, obviously surprised by the visit, but always glad to see her. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Tony," she replied. "Thank you." She looked over at Peter. "Happy birthday."

The boy smiled.

"Thank you."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're not here just for that, Ms. Maximoff?" Strange said, also greeting her.

"Because I'm here to talk to you two, as well."

"Not me?" Peter asked.

" _About_ you," she told him with a gentle smile. "But _to_ them."

"What's going on?" Tony asked, waving her to a seat on the sofa.

She sat down next to Peter, who noticed that he could feel a very faint tingle from her – almost like the feeling he got when the cloak was near him. It was a magical signature. He knew that she wasn't like the cloak – she wasn't a _magical relic_ , of course – but she was somehow imbued with magic in a way that Strange wasn't and Peter could feel it.

"Your hip is bothering you?" she asked Peter.

"A little," he admitted. "It's not too bad." He hesitated. "Did I do something wrong?"

She smiled.

"No. _They_ didn't, either. I'm just here because the Mind stone is restless, and Vision wants to make certain there isn't anything that needs to be addressed. Since he couldn't come here, I offered to. The threat of a conflict between Tony and Stephen could be ruinous. Not only for the distress it would cause Peter –" she smiled at the boy, because she knew immediately that he was worried that he was the reason she was there and was causing trouble for everyone – "But the Earth would be much better off if two of her greatest champions were not going at each other instead of potential threats."

"This is about _last night_?" Tony asked.

"Apparently."

"There's no issue, Wanda. Stephen and I were having a discussion about the differences between magic and technology. We might have become a bit edgy about it, but we sorted it out on our own."

Mostly.

"The Mind stone is interceding?" Strange asked, fascinated.

And maybe a little annoyed at having an infinity stone acting like a busybody.

"Vision described it as grumbling uncertainly in his mind. It's… uncomfortable for him when the thing is focusing on Peter, because then it distracts him."

"That's saying something when it comes to Vision," Stark mused.

She smiled.

"Yes."

"Tell him to tell _it_ that we're good," Tony assured her. "We might be a little competitive but we know what's important."

The look he gave Peter made the boy flush with pleasure because he was sure that Tony meant _him_ , and it made him feel good. And _wanted_. And very much _loved_. That made _Wanda_ smile, as well, because while Peter _suspected_ it, she knew that it was true. Even more, she knew Stephen Strange felt the same way. She was reassured that she could go back to Vision and assure him that there was no concern of strife between the two powerful men.

"I appreciate that, thank you."

"You're welcome. We were discussing lunch. Care to join us?"

"That would be nice. What are you having?"

Stark gestured at Strange and wiggled his gingers.

"Whatever you want."

Stephen just rolled his eyes and gave a sigh of long suffering that made Peter smile.


	53. Chapter 53

Pepper smiled when the two walked into the lounge. Well, _Tony_ walked, but Peter had a decided limp, still. The two headed for the corner table she was sitting at, working on her laptop, but the bartender called Peter's name when they were about halfway across the room and he veered off, heading for the bar, leaving Stark to walk over to greet Pepper alone.

"You're later than I expected," she told him, kissing him when he lowered his head to her and ran a gentle hand along her cheek.

"Peter couldn't find his wallet, so we had to tear the place apart – and then put it back together once he did."

"Where was it?" she asked, looking over at the boy, who was chatting animatedly with the bartended, who was pouring him a soda while listening to him tell her about the trip. From the motions he was making with his hands, she assumed that he was describing the igloo the others had made. "Let me guess; in his jeans' pocket."

"Close." Tony sat down, waving at Peter to get his attention and then making a gesture that was clearly asking him to get him a cup of coffee. "He put it in his _coat_ pocket for safe keeping."

"Where's Stephen?"

"He brought us as far as Peter's room and said he was going to go home and soak in a tub for a few days."

"He'll be back tomorrow, I imagine."

"Unless Romanoff finds a reason to go into the city."

She smiled at that very real possibility, but frowned at the pronounced limp she saw when Peter turned from the bar and walked their way, holding his cola and a cup of coffee for Stark.

"Why does he look like he hurts more now than he did before?"

"He opened the wound on his hip," Tony said. "Don't make a fuss about it, though, he's trying hard to hide it to keep you from worrying about him."

Peter sat his cola down on the table and handed Stark his coffee cup, and then Pepper reached out and caught his arm, pulling him close so she could steal a hug, even an awkward one from her seated position in the chair. The boy smiled and hugged her tightly, leaning over to rest his head on her shoulder.

"Hi, sweetheart. Welcome home."

"Thanks. Did you _miss_ us?"

"I missed _you_. Tony? Not so much."

Stark smiled, knowing that she didn't mean it. He was the apple of her eye and he knew it. At least, he allowed himself to believe it most of the time.

"Just for _that_ , you don't get to come with us."

She smirked.

"I'm driving. I _have_ to come."

"Where are you going?" Peter asked, curiously, an arm still around Pepper's shoulders.

" _We_ ," Tony corrected. "Where are _we_ going…"

"Where are _we_ going?" Peter asked.

"It's a surprise. Do you think you can handle a short drive? We could get you a pillow to sit on."

"Yeah. Where are we going?"

"To the _garage_."

Peter rolled his eyes at the mysterious tone of voice Tony used, and stepped aside to allow Pepper room to get up. She smiled, as pleased to see the two of them as if it had been weeks and not just a day since they'd been gone. One arm went around Peter and the other around Tony.

"You didn't have dinner, yet, did you?"

"No. But we had lunch with Wanda."

He told her about Maximoff's visit as they went to the garage, downplaying the potential seriousness of the call and simply mentioning that the Mind stone was giving Vision an annoying time off and on where Peter was concerned.

"It has a crush on Peter, I think," Tony told her with a wink at the boy as they entered the garage. Peter's car was parked next to Natasha's Corvette, but Tony and Pepper didn't head to the sedan that they normally drove when they went somewhere as a family. Instead, Stark opened the driver's side door to the pickup truck and held it for Pepper, who got behind the wheel. "If it could do it without hurting Peter, I bet it would pop itself right out of Vision's head and come cuddle up to him in the middle of the night."

"Why are we taking the truck?" Peter asked, ignoring the comment about the Mind stone – although he was probably right.

"Because it has more gas," Tony answered, closing Pepper's door. "Do you need help getting in?"

"No."

He didn't hop in easily, but with the help of the door and the leather strap that May used to call the 'oh shit' handle, he levered himself up and into the back seat, carefully moving to the middle of the bench seat so he could watch where they were going and maybe get an idea of their destination. Stark looked over his shoulder while buckling in and checked to make sure he wasn't looking too uncomfortable.

"Are you good?"

"Yeah."

"We _could_ get you something to sit on…"

"I'm okay. Thanks."

It wasn't like he was sitting on a wooden box, after all. The seat wasn't velvet or anything, but it wasn't too bad. He did find himself listing just a little to the right, though, as Pepper drove them out of the garage, down the access road and headed north on the highway.

While she drove, Tony caught up on what she had done that day. He heard about how sick Ned was on the flight back home – although he'd been excited about being allowed to drive one of the giant snow machines. He also heard about how she'd delivered both Ned and MJ back to their homes that morning after feeding them breakfast, and had assured Peter that Ned was well over his motion sickness by the time she'd fed them a hearty breakfast and that he'd been his usual animated self on the drive into the city.

"We have a million pictures to sort through," she told the two. "I want to find the best ones and make a slideshow of some sort for Peter – like a memory book, only digital – and maybe one for us, too."

"Good idea."

Peter wasn't going to be a kid for too much longer, and Stark wanted to make sure they had all the memories that they could make with him. While they were talking, and as they chatted about some of the pictures she'd already found that she loved, Pepper had taken them well up the road to the small farm that housed the place where the Avengers went anytime they felt the need to be buried in puppies. They had _Jack_ , now, of course, and one puppy was a lot of fun and he was absolutely adorable, but multiply him by a dozen and it was a time that never ceased to be relaxing and fun.

Unless it hurt to be upright – and probably hurt to have even a cute puppy bumping into your bandaged gunshot wound.

"We're doing the puppy thing?" he asked, trying to look enthused but his expression was more dubious than anything.

Pepper smiled and shook her head, pulling the truck to a stop next to the barn instead of the building.

"We weren't planning on it. Unless you want to? We didn't think you'd be up to having them crawling on you, right now."

"No. It's fun, don't get me wrong," Peter said. "But I'd rather not, right now."

It made him wonder what they were doing there, though, and he saw Tony's amused grin when the man opened his door and got out of the truck, with Pepper doing the same.

"Come on, Peter," Stark said, slapping a hand against his door. "Bring that key."

The boy frowned and eased out of the truck, stiff from being in the seated position that he'd been in for so long. The other two waited for him, and then they walked toward the barn, where they were met at the great, closed doors by a man in overalls and a light jacket, wearing a cowboy hat. He shook Tony's hand, and smiled at Pepper and Tony.

"We expected you a few days ago," the man said. "Glad to see you made it home."

"We're glad to _be_ home," Stark assured him. "Is everything ready?"

"Just waiting on your boy here."

"What are we-?"

"Go unlock the door," Tony said, gesturing at an odd lock that was on one of the barn doors. "Your present is on the other side."

"Is it a tractor?" Peter asked, limping over to the doors while fishing the key chain out of his pocket.

"No. Do you _want_ a tractor?"

Peter shrugged.

"Might be fun."

He'd never driven a tractor, after all.

He unlocked the barn door and pulled the odd padlock off the latch, and pulled open the door, peeking inside. There was a concrete walkway that ran the length of the huge building, with stalls on either side. In a few of them, Peter saw horses looking out over the tops of the doors to their stalls, watching him. He hesitated, but the man didn't. He led the way down the center aisle to a stall about halfway along the building and stopped, looking at Peter, expectantly.

The boy frowned and looked and what he was pointing at. In the stall they were stopped in front of was an undersized horse. Mostly white, with splotches of brown along its back and legs, it stared at him as dubiously as he looked at it. It wore a leather halter on its head, and affixed to one side was a bright blue bow. Tony came up to stand beside him and Pepper made an awwwing sound when she joined them.

"He's so cute."

"Happy birthday," Tony said, gesturing to the horse.

"You got me a horse?" Peter asked, wondering if Tony had lost his mind, but trying very hard to look pleased at the idea.

It was a _present_ , after all, and Tony looked smug and happy. Pepper had her phone out and was taking pictures, switching between Peter and the small horse in the stall.

"That's a _pony_ ," the man in the coveralls corrected. "A horse is a bit bigger."

"Oh."

"Well, go say hi," Stark told him, fumbling at the latch that kept the stall door closed. "You guys are going to be best friends, after all."

Peter hesitated. It wasn't the biggest creature in the world, but it still weighed a lot more than he did, and for all he knew, it liked the taste of people.

"He won't hurt you," the man assured him. He handed the boy a couple of chucks of carrots, and gave him a gentle push into the stall. "Go ahead."

The pony looked at him, expectantly, and Peter glanced over his shoulder at Tony, who was standing beside Pepper, now, with an arm around her waist, watching him. He limped up to it and flinched when the creature flipped its head up, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

"City kid," Pepper said, amused, taking pity on him and joining him in the stall with a grin. She took one of the carrot chunks from Peter, and presented it to the pony, who took it from her fingers with a flash of velvety lips and huge teeth. She put an arm around the pony's neck and it nuzzled her, looking for another treat. "See? Like that."

Peter held the chunk of carrot out, closing his eyes and hoping that he wasn't about to lose a finger or two. He needed them.

"Put your hand flat," the man said at the last minute, causing Peter to flinch, again, and almost drop the carrot.

He stretched his hand a little, and the pony took the treat, crunching it loudly and messily, and then nuzzled Peter's hand, licking it and clearly looking for more. The boy pulled his hand back, wiping it on his jeans – on his _uninjured_ side, luckily.

"What do you think?" Tony asked, holding his arms out, expansively. "A real live pony. Just like you've always _wanted_."

Well aware that a pony had never been on any wish list that he'd ever made as long as he could remember, Peter's expression was uncertain, and Pepper laughed, and hugged him.

"He's for you," she said. "But only until _tomorrow_. Then you are going to go with Clint and present him to Lila for her birthday."

"Which is going to make _Clint_ the second-best dad in the world," Tony said. "Behind me, of course. And will almost certainly cement the crush that she already has on you."

Peter blushed, but smiled, relieved.

"He's for Lila?"

"No. He's for _you_ ," Tony said. "Because I wanted to buy you a pony. But Pepper has pointed out that we do not really have the accommodations for a pony, and that just because I wanted to get you something, it doesn't necessarily mean that you would be happy to receive said something. Which you've proved nicely just now."

"So we compromised," Pepper told him, rubbing her knuckles on the brown splotch on the pony's face and smiling when he closed his eyes in bliss. " _He_ gets to give you a pony, and _you_ get to give it away to someone who has wanted one for years, and has finally convinced her father that she's old enough and responsible enough to take good care of him."

"What if she doesn't want him?" Peter asked.

Stark rolled his eyes.

"You don't know _anything_ about women, Peter, do you? She _going_ to want him. Look at Pepper. She's probably trying to figure out how to keep him for herself, even as we speak. Girls love ponies. It's in their DNA, somewhere."

"I'll pull the trailer around to your truck," the man said. "And then we can load him up."


	54. Chapter 54

The pony was loaded without protest into a trailer that was the hitched to the back of the truck – which explained to Peter why they hadn't taken the sedan. Then Tony had shaken hands with the man and had gathered his little family, and their temporary pet, and Pepper had driven them back to the compound.

The Avengers weren't set up to handle a horse, no matter how small, so instead of an actual stall, a temporary chain link fence had been put around a large section of the field right outside one of the doors, practically under Peter's window. This was both to keep the pony in and allow it to graze on the lush grass of the field while waiting to be taken to his new home and also to keep any potential predator looking for an easy meal that night away from him.

Pepper had unloaded the pony with an ease that impressed Peter and Tony both, and had taken its lead off, turning him loose in the fenced area of the field. There was a large bucket of water in one corner and a bale of hay had been brought with them just to make sure the pony didn't starve before Clint could get it home to Lila. This had been spread – again by Pepper, with some clumsy assistance from Tony – and the little horse seemed perfectly content to check out his new enclosure. Pepper left to move the truck around to the side of the facility, since they'd need to return the trailer the next few days.

"We'll have dinner in an hour or so, okay?" Tony said, standing beside Peter, who was leaning on the chain link fence watching as the pony acclimate himself to the new surroundings.

"Yeah."

Tony put his hand on the boy's shoulder, uncertain of the expression on the boy's face.

"Do you want to _keep_ him? We could get Lila a different one."

"What? No. No. I was just trying to figure out if he could jump the fence."

"You _sure_?" Tony teased. "He's kind of cute, now that I see him out in the sunshine."

"Did you pick him out?"

"Pepper and Laura did. What I know about horses would fit in the first page of one of those miniature books that you can only see through microscopes."

"All the more reason for us _not_ to keep him," Peter pointed out.

"True. Be in the lounge in an hour, okay? I don't want to have to come looking for you."

"Okay."

"And don't try riding him."

"No worry about that."

Even if he was in full health there was very little chance that Peter would try to get on the little animal's back. As it stood now, with his hip aching, the last thing he wanted was to run the risk of falling off or being bounced around. Despite planning to head to the lounge, Tony stood with him for a while longer, both of them watching the pony – mainly because Peter was too sore to really want to move away from the fence just yet, and Tony was just content to stand with him for a while.

It was only a few minutes later, though, when Peter felt arms coming around him from behind, a chin resting on his shoulder and a sultry voice whisper in his ear.

"Take me for a ride on him?"

Peter smiled.

"Not a _chance_. I'd probably fall on my head. Or worse, on _you_."

Natasha laughed, hugged him close for a moment and then let him go. Peter saw that Clint was with her, and the two stood by the fence, also leaning on it and also watching the pony.

"Lila's going to flip, Clint," she said.

Barton grinned, obviously anticipating just that reaction.

"Yes, she is. I'll be world's greatest dad for sure."

"No," Tony corrected. "You're giving her a _used_ pony. _I_ gave him to Peter, first, so I get the greatest dad award. You get whatever award a second hand pony earns a dad."

"Peter didn't even _want_ a pony," Barton pointed out, winking at the boy. "It's hardly worthy of the award to get him a pony he doesn't want. Lila has been begging for three years, now. What are you going to get _him_ next? A rattlesnake?"

"Maybe. Or maybe a chia pet. Who knows?"

Natasha laughed.

"Come on, Peter. Let's go find something to do and leave these two to their discussion – before you end up the proud owner of a stink bug or something."

She put her arm around him and steered him back toward the main building, slowing her pace to match his limp, and Barton grinned at Tony.

"You realize the world's greatest dad is going to have to make sure field is free of surprises once Peter and I take the pony home tomorrow…?"

Stark rolled his eyes, but he obviously hadn't thought of that. Then he shrugged.

"I'll have someone else take care of that. I'll be too busy polishing my trophy."

OOOOOOOO

"Is your hip bothering you?"

"Just a little. The ride in the truck bounced me around a bit."

"We'll keep you off your feet tonight, then."

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow morning sometime we'll catch your pony, put him in a safety crate and load him into the jet for his ride to Clint's farm."

She was obviously looking forward to seeing the little girl's face when they showed her her birthday present.

"Think she'll like him?"

"Absolutely. He'll be loved and made much of and probably a little spoiled."

She almost mentioned that it would be similar to the way Tony treated _him_ , but decided that he might take it negatively, and she wouldn't have meant it to be. Romanoff truly enjoyed watching the interaction between Stark and Peter. She knew the boy was good for the billionaire – and vice versa – and it was adorable the way Tony seemed to always be aware of where Peter was and what he was doing. She was surprised that he was allowing Peter to be on his feet if his injury was bothering so much that his limp was visible.

"You're going to come?"

"Of course." She smiled. "I saw the pictures when you were introduced to him. _You're_ afraid of him, so someone has to take him off the jet and out of the crate."

"I'm not _afraid_ of him."

She raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

"Well, no. Not _afraid_. Wary might be a better word."

Romanoff smiled.

"Wary, it is. Tell me what you guys did at the cabin after we left you."

As they walked back to the building, and then to the lounge, Peter told her about the day on the sledding hill and how Tony and Strange had sat at the bottom of the hill drinking coffee and had allowed him to sled as much as he wanted, staying out until they were all cold and ready to call it a day. The portal had made the difference, of course, making it incredibly easy for him to sled until he'd been forced to stop.

"Is that why your hip is so sore, now?" she asked as they walked into the lounge.

"It's my fault," he said. "I was having a good time and didn't want to stop."

Pepper wasn't in the lounge, yet, so they went over to the corner table. Natasha didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave his company, so they sat down and he allowed her to talk him into playing WAR with her while they waited for the others.

He lost, of course, but he didn't mind. The outcome was pretty much a given, and they both knew it. It was fine, though. She was good company and in no hurry, and even when Tony and Pepper showed up, she stuck around and ate dinner with them before finally excusing herself to take care of other things.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Tony asked Peter when they were sitting around the table, relaxing after a very good meal of pasta and bread rolls.

"I should work on homework."

"No." It was Pepper who shook her head. "Relax tonight. You just got home. Tomorrow is soon enough for homework, okay?"

He shrugged.

"Okay."

"How about a movie?" Tony suggested. "Just what the doctor ordered to keep you off your feet and relaxed."

Peter looked over at Pepper, wondering if she had something else that she wanted to do instead of that, but she nodded her agreement.

"That sounds like a good idea – if it's not a horror movie."

"That can be arranged."

They spent a very relaxing evening on the sofa in Pepper and Tony's quarters. With one of them on either side of him and a soft pillow keeping his hip from actually pressing against Tony, who sitting on that side of him, they almost made it through two movies before Peter and Tony both fell asleep, leaving Pepper the only one still awake to see how the last movie ended.

She turned off the TV, and decided to leave both of them where they were, knowing that they'd sort themselves out during the night when they woke up – either they'd just curl up on the couch for the rest of the night, or Peter would go find his own bed if he felt up to making the trek. She simply covered them both warmly, pressed a tender kiss against Tony's lips and went to bed.


	55. Chapter 55

"You bought him a pony…?"

"You say that like it's unreasonable, Stephen."

"Did he _ask_ for a pony?"

"No."

"Did he _want_ a pony?"

"Not especially."

"So, you bought him one because…?"

"Because I wanted to buy him a pony."

"What the hell is he going to do with a pony, Tony?"

"He's going to give it to Clint's daughter for her birthday."

"So, you bought _Clint's daughter_ a pony."

"No. I bought Peter a pony. Pay attention."

Pepper smiled at the expression on the doctor's face. He looked confused and perplexed. She was well aware how he felt. She'd felt that way plenty of times when dealing with Tony.

"Where is it, now?"

"They just loaded him into a crate, and into the Quinjet and are flying to Clint's to make it in time for Lila's birthday party."

"Natasha went with them?"

"She did – and so did Steve. She's known Clint's kids since they were babies, and she's looking forward to seeing the reaction."

The doctor changed the subject that had been his original reason for stopping in that morning – aside from seeing Natasha, of course.

"How was Peter this morning?"

"Stiff and sore," Pepper said, looking concerned. "He fell asleep watching movies with us in our quarters last night, and must not have done any sleepwalking, because he was still on the sofa where I left him when I went to bed, but he was walking with a pronounced limp – even though he said he didn't feel too terrible."

"He ate breakfast," Tony reported. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with his appetite."

"When are they supposed to be back?"

"Early afternoon. After lunch – and cake and ice cream."

"You're welcome to stick around if you'd like," Pepper told him. "We could probably find something to entertain you."

"I appreciate it, but I'm going to head back to the sanctum. I'm a bit behind from being gone for longer than I intended, and it's not fair to leave it all for Wong – although he says that he doesn't mind."

"Come by for lunch," Stark suggested. "Then you can be here when they get back."

"I will. Thanks."

The doctor vanished, and Pepper turned to Tony.

"Do you want to take a drive with me? I'm going to take the trailer back."

"Sounds good."

He could use the distraction. He was getting used to having Peter around, and felt a little lonely when he wasn't there to spend time with.

OOOOOOOO

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Peter nodded, wiping his eyes, which seemed to be watering for no reason.

"Yeah."

Natasha wasn't the only one that didn't look convinced. Steve and Clint were both watching him, as well.

"You're not sorry you gave Lila Peter?"

He smiled and shook his head.

"I'm more upset that you let her name him _Peter_."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Clint told him with a smirk.

"Did someone say something to upset you?" Natasha asked, still focused on the fact that Peter's eyes were watering – and had been most of the morning. He also looked somewhat more miserable – which was saying something considering he'd been limping pretty badly since she'd seen him at breakfast.

"It was a dozen ten-year-old girls, Natasha," Clint said. "What are they going to _say_?"

"I'm fine, guys," Peter repeated, sniffing. He cleared his throat. "It was fun. She looked like she had a good time."

Clint smiled.

"She _did_. Thanks to you."

"Tony and Pepper got her the pony. I just got to hand over the keys."

"It wasn't just the pony," Natasha said, smiling. "I watched her hanging on you all morning. You were so cute, the way you put up with her."

He rolled his eyes, smiling and blushing at the same time. He definitely wasn't used to being the focus of a crush, and there was no doubt that Lila Barton had a bit of a crush on him. She'd hugged him when he'd handed her the lead for the pony – which she'd immediately dubbed Peter – and then she'd insisted that he sit beside her when she opened her other presents, _and_ when they'd had cake and ice cream and she'd confided in Natasha that she was going to marry Peter when she grew up.

Romanoff hadn't shared that piece of information with Peter, or with Clint, but it was amusing to her all the same.

"It's her birthday," Peter reminded her. "You only get so many, right?"

"Uh huh."

Romanoff scratched her collarbone through the light sweater she was wearing. She was going to have to stop wearing wool, the way it was making her itch.

"Thanks for putting up with her, Peter," Barton said. "You really did make it a special day for her."

"I didn't do that much," Peter said – again. "But you're welcome. It was fun."

As much fun as a sixteen-year-old could have hanging out with little kids. Besides, Peter was a fan of cake, even in the morning.

"Then why do you look like you've been crying?" Steve asked. "Are your eyes bothering you?"

"A little. Probably too much sunshine after so much snow."

"They're pretty red…" Natasha said.

"Yours are, too, Nat," Barton said. "Are _you_ feeling okay?"

"It's nothing," she said. "I feel fine."

Both men frowned, looking at each other. Neither looked convinced, but Barton shrugged.

"Well, let's get out of here. I'll call Tony and let him know we're on our way back."

Steve nodded, looking around the fuselage of the jet, which still showed signs of transporting the pony, even though he'd been in the safety crate. Bits of straw were everywhere, and dust particles were floating in the air, reflecting the sunlight coming in from the open ramp.

"We'll want to clear this thing out when we get back."

Natasha sneezed.

OOOOOOO

Tony wasn't the only one waiting at the pad when the Quinjet landed at the compound. Strange was standing beside him with Pepper standing between the two men. She and Tony were eager to hear how the pony had been received, and Strange was just there because he wanted to check on Peter and see Natasha. Maybe in that order, but maybe not.

The jet settled on its landing gear, and after a minute the ramp came down and Natasha and Peter appeared, with Clint and Steve flanking the two. Strange frowned at how badly Peter was limping when he headed down the ramp. The boy was smiling, even though his eyes were red and he winced with every other step.

Natasha's eyes were red, too, he noticed, and she was idly scratching her shoulder and side as she watched Peter's progress.

"Are you two alright?" Tony asked Natasha and Peter, noticing that Clint and Steve both looked slightly amused.

"We're fine," Natasha said, sniffing.

"How did Lila like the pony?" Pepper asked when Peter reached the bottom of the ramp.

The boy grinned.

"She squealed and then all her friends squealed, and you never saw so many pieces of carrot being fed to one lucky pony."

"Why do you look upset?" Tony asked, reaching out and putting a hand on Peter's forehead.

There wasn't a fever.

"I'm not."

"I'd guess they're allergic to Peter," Steve said from the top of the ramp.

"What?" Pepper asked, looking over as Stephen had greeted Natasha, but had immediately pulled her sleeve away from where she was scratching her arm, rolled it up and frowned at the rash he was seeing. "Peter?"

"Not Peter Parker," Clint clarified. "Peter Pony"

"Peter Pony?" Strange repeated.

Peter rolled his eyes with a wry smile.

"That's what Lila named her pony. _Peter Pony_. They've been showing all kinds of symptoms of being allergic to him since we put him on the jet, but Steve and I didn't put it together until we were on our way home. They were both pretty stuffed up when we got to my place this morning – after spending the flight in close proximity, they cleared up a bit during the party and were worse when we left. And now…" he shrugged. "I'd say they could both use a healthy dose of Benadryl – which is not something we keep on the jet."

"You're allergic to horses?" Strange asked Natasha, surprised.

She shrugged.

"I've never had the opportunity to be around them. I suppose I am. I can't think of what else it could be."

"Peter?"

"I guess." He shrugged, too. "Might just be a cold, from being in the snow."

"No one else is sick," Pepper pointed out. "And you were fine, before. Stephen?"

"We'll take them inside and check them out," the doctor said, more amused than concerned – although Peter's limp worried him more than a little. "At first guess I'd say Clint is right, but it won't hurt to make sure."

"It's a good thing he was afraid of that pony," Pepper said, as Tony put himself in position beside Peter to give him some support to help keep some weight off his injured side. "It'd have been a disaster if he'd fallen for it and wanted to actually keep it."

"I'm not _afraid_ of it," Peter told them all. Again. "I just didn't want it to eat me."

You never knew, after all.

"Come on," Strange said, still not bothering to hide his amusement. "Let's get you guys taken care of."


	56. Chapter 56

"Who'd have thought…" Clint said ten minutes later, smiling and shaking his head. "The Spiderman and Black Widow. Taken out by a runt sized horse."

Peter didn't respond. Strange had set the two of them on one of the sofas in the lounge, off to the side near their usual corner and had immediately confirmed Clint and Steve's diagnosis of an allergic reaction – almost certainly to the pony. Or more likely, to the pony dander. Since both of them had had no problems when it came to cuddling Jack, he knew neither of them were allergic to dogs – and they had video evidence that Peter had once had a cat in his house as a child, so they wouldn't need to worry about felines, either.

Apparently, it was just horses.

He'd produced a couple of syringes and had given both Natasha and Peter an injection and had then checked the gunshot wound on Peter's hip before the boy could rouse himself enough from his new misery to protest having Pepper and Natasha close by.

The injury wasn't as raw and red as it had been the evening that he'd been shot, but it wasn't healing very well, either, and Pepper, in particular, paled when she saw how serious it looked.

"What do we do, Stephen?" she asked, watching as Strange bandaged the wound heavily, and hitched the side of Peter's jeans back over the bandages.

"He's been too active," the doctor told her. Told all of them, really, since they were all watching the procedure. "It's not _infected_. He doesn't have a fever, and the wound is clean. But we – and mostly I mean _me_ – have allowed him to be on his feet when he really shouldn't be."

"It was my _birthday_ ," Peter told him, somewhat groggily. The shot that Strange had given him was a lot more potent than a Benadryl tablet or two, and the boy and Natasha were both already feeling one of the more noticeable side-effects. "I wanted to spend time with everyone."

Strange brushed a hand against Peter's cheek – ostensibly to check for fever, but there was no hiding the affection in the gesture.

"I know. Which is why I allowed it – even though I shouldn't have. But the party is _over_ , now, okay? I don't want you out of bed for the rest of this week – and the weekend. We'll give the wound a chance to heal, and see if we can get you back to school on Monday."

"All _week_?"

"Longer if we need to," he warned him. "It's going to depend on you keeping still and letting it heal."

"We can keep him in bed," Pepper assured him.

"It looks like they're both ready for bed, now," Steve pointed out, amused, noting that Natasha was leaning at a drunken tilt from her position beside Peter. "I'll take one of them."

"Take _Natasha_ ," Stephen ordered. "I'd rather Peter was carried between two people to avoid any pressure on his hip."

Rogers nodded and scooped Romanoff into his arms, easily. She didn't argue, which was another sign that the allergy medication was doing its thing and had her almost asleep. Or at least wiped out enough that she wasn't willing to chance walking to her quarters. Peter, on the other hand, was fighting the effects of the drug, and his constitution was enhanced enough to allow a final argument.

"I'm okay. I can walk."

"Not likely," Strange said, reaching for one of the boy's arms to help him to his feet. "Tony?"

"Yeah."

Stark moved to the other side of Peter, slipped his arm over his shoulder to take the weight from the injured side.

"What does he need, Stephen?" Pepper asked.

"Nothing. He's going to sleep the rest of the day."

" _Company_ ," Peter protested, still fighting the drug, but not the people around him. He loved them and trusted them and was already leaning against Tony and his doctor, allowing them to take his weight instead of putting it on his sore side. "I don't want to be alone."

It was selfish, and he normally wouldn't have said something, but the medication made him less reluctant to ask for what he wanted and he liked having people with him. Liked opening his eyes and seeing that someone was there. Not to wait on him or bring things that he couldn't reach, but it was a true statement that misery loves company. At least for Peter, it was. He didn't like to be alone when he wasn't feeling well. His parents had known it. May had known it. Even Ned knew it. Tony and the others were learning it.

"We'll find some company for you," Stark assured him. "Come on."

Pepper followed as they walked/carried Peter to his quarters and she went ahead of them to turn his blankets down on the bed. With a thought, the boy went from jeans and the sweatshirt he'd been wearing to a pair of pajamas in dark blue and soft enough that there wouldn't be any issue of scratchiness to annoy him and keep him awake. They helped him into his bed and it was Pepper who covered him, tucking the blanket around him.

"I'm going to go check on Natasha," Strange told them. "Let me know if he needs anything."

"We will," Tony assured him. "Thanks."

Peter wasn't asleep. He was still fighting the medication, and was trying to stay awake. It wasn't working all that well, but his eyes were open, at least. Pepper sat on the edge of his bed and brushed her hand against his forehead, pushing his hair back from his eyes.

"Did you have a good time at Lila's party?"

"Yeah. She loved the pony. It was a good present. Good idea."

"Did you see Nick Furry?" Tony asked, sitting next to Pepper.

Peter smiled, his eyes closing, finally. The little blonde brother to Jack had been excited by the pony and had learned immediately that chase the tail was not Peter Pony's favorite game.

"Yeah. He said to say hi."

That made Pepper smile over at Tony.

"I'd say he's falling asleep, hmmm?" she murmured, softly.

"Definitely."

"I'll stay with him in case he needs anything."

"I could."

"You can later."

"Want me to bring you anything?"

"My laptop."

"Tony?" Peter roused just a little. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah. Pepper's going to keep you company, though."

"Okay." He smiled. "She's pretty nice, huh?"

"Yeah," Stark winked at Pepper, who rolled her eyes, amused. "She has her moments."

"She's good at the mom thing," Peter mumbled. "I really love her."

Tony smiled, watching as Pepper searched for a tissue she didn't have and ended up wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"I really love her, too," he murmured, leaning around Pepper to brush his cheek against Peter's. "Go to sleep, okay? You need to get better."

The touch was Peter's downfall, and he sighed.

"Okay."

He stilled, finally succumbing to the medication coursing through his system, and Tony put his arms around Pepper, holding her close.

"He's right. You _are_ good at the mom thing."

OOOOOOO

Steve was sitting on the edge of Natasha's bed when Strange walked into her quarters.

"Is she asleep?"

"Out like a light," Rogers reported. "It's nothing serious, is it? This allergy thing?"

"You're not allergic to anything?"

Steve shook his head.

"No. Never have been. You?"

"Poison Ivy." They knew that, first hand. "It's nothing serious. She'll itch until the medication clears the histamines in her system, but she'll probably sleep until evening – if not longer – and she'll feel better by then."

"Does she need someone to stay with her?"

"Probably not," Stephen said. "But I'll stay anyway. Just in case either of them have a reaction to the drug I gave them."

"How likely is that?"

"Slim to none."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will."

Steve left, and Strange settled himself beside Natasha's sleeping form. He had things to do, yes, but none of them were that important. He could spend a little time hanging out with his favorite Avenger.


	57. Chapter 57

Pepper spent the afternoon in Peter's bed with him. She was on his uninjured side, sitting propped up by a mountain of pillows Tony brought in for her. She was right up beside the boy and he had shifted sometime in his sleep onto his uninjured side, with his face tucked into her side, his arm draped over her legs. Her laptop was open, but Pepper wasn't really working. She had the data from all of the digital cameras everyone had used on the trip to Montana downloaded into her laptop, as well as the memory cards that she'd copied from Elmer's camera, and was sorting through them picking out the ones that were her personal favorites – and the photos that she thought Peter or Tony might like.

They would be shared with everyone, of course, but she had the time to look at them, now, so she was clearing out any that were blurry, or too dark or just plain unusable. That would save the others time in the future when _they_ wanted to go through them. She thought that she might send some to Elmer, too, thinking that he might like some of the ones that Ned had taken with the Idahoan in them.

A light tap on the door drew her attention and she looked up. Tony entered the bedroom carrying a tray with a snack on it. He smiled at how comfortable Peter looked and walked over to her side of the bed.

"I thought you might be hungry."

She nodded, closing the laptop and setting it aside.

"Thank you."

"Has he woken up at all?" he asked, bringing the tray over and setting it down before he settled onto the edge of the bed next to her.

"No. He's pretty out of it, I think. Did you check on Natasha?"

"Where do you think I got the tray?"

Pepper smiled.

"Is _she_ awake, yet?"

"No. Stephen told me that he expects her to sleep until dinner, at least. Do you need a break?"

"I'm fine, Tony." She smiled down at the boy cuddled against her, and brushed a couple of fingers along his temple. "Did you bring enough for two?"

"For _three_ ," he said. "Just in case."

"Stephen isn't worried about him missing lunch?"

Clint had told them that they hadn't actually had more than cake and ice cream at the birthday party.

"No. You know how he is…" Tony adopted a fairly good imitation of Strange at his most formal. "'It's much more important that he gets the rest that he needs, Tony. It won't hurt him to miss a meal here and there.'"

Pepper chuckled at that.

"He's probably right."

Stark shrugged.

"I'm sure he is. He's good at what he does."

She nodded.

"You know, he's done a lot for us. We should probably find a good way to thank him for it."

"We gave him a _girlfriend_ ," Tony pointed out. "What more could he want?"

"I'm pretty sure we didn't have anything to do with that. And I'd suggest you refrain from saying it like that anywhere near Natasha."

"I'm not crazy," he said, amused. He made himself a sandwich from the various sandwich items on the tray. "We could send him on a vacation…"

"No."

"Wall art for the sanctum?"

She smiled.

"You're not very good at this…"

"I got you a crockpot for Christmas last year, remember? Of _course_ I'm no good at this. Ask Natasha what he might like. Or Peter, even. They know him best."

"I might do that."

"We could get him a magic set. Complete with top hat and a saw for cutting the assistant in half."

Pepper laughed.

"We'll have to try and do better than that."

OOOOOOO

Stephen Strange was reading a book when Natasha stirred beside him. The doctor was stretched out on her bed, his legs under the same blanket that she was under, but the rest of him upright and propped against the headboard of her bed. A bowl of grapes was close at hand, but he wasn't eating – and he wasn't really reading, either.

He set his book aside when she moved, and smiled down at her when she opened her eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked, softly.

"Terrible."

"Do you itch?"

"No."

"Your eyes don't look as bad as they were. Are they bothering you?"

"No. I'm fine, Stephen."

"But in the _terrible_ way…?"

"Yes."

"If you could be a little more specific, I might be able to make you feel better."

"I feel grumpy and out of sorts and sleeping all day is going to keep me from sleeping tonight and _that_ will make me sleepy tomorrow."

"What do you have scheduled for tomorrow?"

"Secret Avenger things."

Strange smiled.

"So, _nothing_?"

Romanoff scowled, and reached for his hand, turning away from him and pulling his arm around her, telling him without words that she wanted to be held. He was willing, and tucked the other arm under her to join the hands in front of her, across her belly, before resting his chin on her shoulder, pressing a kiss against her cheek.

"I could make you sleepy," he murmured into her ear, and smiled when he felt her shiver.

"What are _you_ doing tomorrow?" she countered, turning her head.

"Spending time with you?"

"Good answer."

"Feel better?"

"A _little_."

"Go back to sleep, Natasha," he advised her, hugging her from behind. "You'll feel better by the time you wake up."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

OOOOOOOOO

Pepper and Tony stayed in Peter's bed with him the rest of the day. He didn't need them to. He was sleeping peacefully, his hand always in contact with one of them. Pepper left long enough to make a couple of phone calls that she needed to make for work, and Tony slid into the spot that she'd vacated, his hand resting lightly on Peter's shoulder, fingers sifting through his hair while he flipped through his phone with the other hand. When Pepper returned, she gestured for him to stay where he was and simply slid into the bed on Peter's other side, flanking him like they were so used to doing by now.

It was well after the normal dinner hour before the boy finally stirred, his system clearing itself of the medication that Strange had dosed him with and his empty stomach taking precedence over sleep.

"Are you awake?" Tony asked him, softly, when he opened his eyes and lifted his head from Stark's chest to look around, sleepily.

"Yeah. I think so."

He turned and saw Pepper on his other side, dozing with her head cushioned on a pillow and some of his blanket tucked around her.

"She fell asleep about an hour ago," Tony told him. "Go ahead and wake her up. She won't mind."

He didn't want to reach across Peter to do it, himself, and he smiled when the boy rolled just enough to be able to press the palm of his hand against Pepper's cheek.

"Pepper?"

She opened her eyes, and looked at him – and then at Tony.

"Are you alright?" she asked Peter, sitting up and reaching for his forehead.

"I'm fine."

"Your eyes don't look as red."

"No. I'm fine. Really."

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

"Tony?"

"Starving."

"We could go to the lounge," Peter said. "It's probably not too late to get something from the kitchen there."

"You're staying in bed, young man," Pepper reminded him, firmly.

"For how long?"

They both realized that Peter had already been medicated by Strange when they'd discussed keeping him in bed to get his hip healed, and he probably didn't remember the conversation that they'd had with the doctor.

"Until Stephen says you can get out of bed," Tony told him. "Probably through the weekend."

"That _long_?"

"Longer if we need to," Pepper confirmed. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "We want to give your hip a chance to heal, and Stephen says keeping you in bed is the best way to accomplish that."

Peter frowned, a bit dismayed by the thought of being in bed that long. There wasn't a lot for him to do, after all.

"What does _he_ know?"

Tony snorted.

"He's the doctor, don't forget. Just do it our way, okay?"

The boy sighed, but nodded. It wasn't like he had a lot of choice in the matter.

"Fine."

"Let's eat," Pepper told him. "Then we'll figure out what we need to do to keep you occupied."


	58. Chapter 58

"What are you doing?"

Peter looked over his shoulder at the door to his bedroom and saw Tony standing in the entrance, his arms folded across his chest, looking a little perplexed.

"Nothing," the boy told him, turning his attention back to the floor of his bedroom, on the far side of his bed. "The same thing I did this morning. And all day _yesterday_."

Stark smiled at the petulance in Peter tone, understanding completely and not without sympathy – although he had to hide it. Peter had been fine – more or less – with his enforced activity the first day. Mainly because he'd slept throughout most of the day. The second day he was confined to his bed he'd spent the time working on his homework – and had finished everything there was to do. Including reading two books.

Now he was _bored_. Heartily bored and chagrined that none of them were willing to accept that he felt fine and his hip was hardly bothering him, and he could probably get out of bed without too much fuss. Strange kept monitoring the progress of the wound, and refused to even allow Peter to sit up in his bed to avoid any kind of pressure on the injury – and staunchly refused to allow him to even go to the sofa in his living area for at least another day or two.

Peter was limited to laying in his bed on his back, on his uninjured side, or on his belly.

And he wasn't very happy about it.

At the moment, he was on his belly. Steve had brought him a small blue rubber racquetball and he'd alternated between bouncing it against the ceiling that morning, the wall earlier that afternoon, and now the floor. He was hanging over the edge of the bed, and the steady thump of the ball hitting the carpet alternated between a quick staccato and a slow, measured dirge.

The TV was on, but the news program it was showing was proof that Peter wasn't watching it. Tony walked over to the far side of the bed and sat down beside Peter's lanky frame and watched him bounce the ball for a moment, wondering what he did when he missed and it went rolling away. As if to answer that very question, the ball hit a knot in the carpet and bounced erratically, heading toward Peter's dresser and out of reach of the boy's grab.

Without missing a beat, Peter's web shooter activated, and a quick jet of webbing caught the ball and brought it back to his hand.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

Of course, that was the word that he'd used every time anyone asked that particular question. Since he was only allowed out of the bed to go to the bathroom and back, his gait was monitored fairly carefully when he _did_ get up, and his limp was still there.

"Pepper should be home in a while."

She'd taken the day before off, but since all evidence of the allergic reaction had cleared, she had decided it was probably safe to leave Peter long enough to get caught up on various meetings and conference calls. Not that she hadn't called Tony several times that day to check on the boy, but she wasn't hovering – even though Stark knew she would have if she'd been there.

"Okay."

Tony put his hand on Peter's back.

"I love you. You know that, right?"

Peter sighed and let the ball fall to the floor and roll to a stop against his dresser. He was bored, yes, and upset about being stuck in bed, but nothing meant more to him than what Tony was saying – and the fact that he was saying it so readily. He turned onto his side and put his head on Stark's leg. Not that he needed the comfort, but the leg was a convenient place to pillow his head, and his head ached a little – probably from staring at the walls in his room for what felt like years.

"I know. And I love you, too, Tony."

"Good."

"Do you have my adoption papers?"

Stark frowned.

"Pepper has them someplace for safe keeping. Why?"

"Because I want to look through them."

"Because…?"

"Because you signed a lot of spots that day, as I recall, and I'm sure somewhere in there the judge would have put something about not being allowed to force me to stay in bed…"

Stark smiled, realizing that Peter was teasing him – which was much better than having him sulk, or pout. At least he wasn't changing his mind about the whole adoption thing.

"I think I saw something in there... Oh, yeah, it's the part where I promised that I would do whatever it takes to make sure that you are healthy and safe."

Peter rolled his eyes, but Tony just rested his palm against the boy's cheek.

"I know it's boring. If all goes well, it'll only be for a few more days. Just hang in there."

"Okay."

"Want to watch a movie?"

He didn't, but he knew he was being a pain, and also that it wasn't Tony's fault that he was hurt and stuck in bed, so it wasn't fair to take it out on him. He nodded, and moved himself carefully back to the middle of his bed and onto his back.

"Yeah."

OOOOOOO

Stark was waiting in the garage when Pepper returned from the tower just before dinner. The billionaire was leaning against Peter's car and dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt with a sweatshirt over it. He smiled when she pulled to a stop, and when the engine was shut off he opened her door for her.

"How was the drive?"

"Uneventful," she replied, handing him her bag before getting out from behind the wheel and brushing a kiss against his cheek. "How's Peter?"

"Just this side of being rebellious," Tony told her, smiling to reassure her that it wasn't quite as bad as it might have been. "He's bored."

"He's used to being active," she reminded him. "I don't blame him."

"I don't, either."

"What's he doing now?"

"He fell asleep watching a movie and was still asleep when I left his room."

"I want to show you something," she told him. "Let's go to the lounge. Then we can wake him up for dinner and see about distracting him."

They went to the lounge and Tony let her situate herself at their table while he went to get them coffee. As he was walking back to the table, Strange walked into the lounge and headed for Pepper's table, as well. The doctor was alone – although Stark was fairly certain Natasha had been with him earlier. Pepper was pulling her laptop out of her bag when both men arrived at the table.

"Did you check on Peter?" Tony asked, setting a cup of coffee in front of Pepper.

"No. How is he?"

"Bored."

"He'll have company, by now."

"Oh?"

"The cloak came with me."

"He can use the distraction," Pepper said, approvingly. "Since you're here, Stephen, _you_ might be interested in this…"

Both men watched as she turned on the laptop.

"What are we looking at?" Strange asked, curiously.

"I've been sorting through the memory cards from the cameras we used during the Montana trip," she told both of them. "I found this one in our luggage – and from the quality and the subjects, I'm assuming it's Elmer's. But look…"

She brought up a string of fourteen pictures. They were taken at night, from the deck of the cabin, in quick succession. They showed Peter standing next to Tony, who was in the Ironman suit and had his hand raised, obviously ready to use his repulser weapon. The really interesting – and _terrifying_ – thing captured in the photos was that Peter had _his_ arms up as well and in the distance was a literal mountain of snow suspended above the trees in the distance and in the next few pictures receding a bit, pushed back by a glow of orange. If it had been taken with one the cheaper cameras Pepper had handed out, the photos wouldn't have been so clear. Elmer's equipment, however, had managed to capture several frames that made it quite plain to those looking at them that the situation had been deadly.

"That's impressive," Strange said, looking at the photos on the laptop with his intense gaze.

"And scary," Pepper agreed. She looked at Tony. "Why didn't you mention how close it was?"

"Because there was no reason to," he told her. "It didn't come that close – and it was pushed back behind the tree line by the time Peter was done with it."

"How did you convince Elmer to give you the photos?" Stephen asked, curiously. "Even if they were suspected of being retouched, a photo like that would be worth a fortune."

Stark smirked.

"He thought we were going to kill him for finding out that Peter was an alien."

"You didn't tell him _that_ ," Pepper said, scandalized.

"No. He came to that conclusion himself. I told him he was wrong. But he gave me the memory card – just to be sure, I suppose."

"I'd like copies of those prints," the doctor said. "Wong would be interested in seeing them."

"Of course."

"Other than you, though, they probably shouldn't be distributed too much," Tony said.

"No. Definitely not."

Pepper nodded her agreement, as well.

"I'll leave them out of the slide show."

Strange smiled.

"I suppose we owe him one for saving our lives, though."

"Get him on his feet as soon as possible," Tony suggested. "That's all he'd want."

"Is he already bored?"

"That would be an understatement."

"I'll check on him before you feed him dinner," he promised.


	59. Chapter 59

Peter was sitting up in his bed when they walked into his room. The Cloak of Levitation was wrapped around him, a corner of fabric caressing his ear and the boy was holding the remote, looking as if he'd just been woken up – which was almost certainly the case. Strange scowled, ready to scold him for being upright when he had left orders for the boy to keep pressure off his side at all times, but then realized that Peter wasn't actually touching the bed. He was hovering about two inches above his blankets but the cloak was draped around him and had hidden that until he took a closer look.

" _Seriously?"_

Peter grinned when he looked over and saw them. He was obviously pleased and maybe even excited that the ancient relic was willing to allow him a loophole that let him sit up.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

"How did you convince it to float you?" the doctor asked.

Pepper had never actually seen the cloak do more than float itself around the place, and she was impressed, walking over and sliding her hand under Peter, between his leg and the bed. The cloak brushed a corner of fabric against her hand, and Tony remembered – only for the briefest of moments – that the thing had fried a guy a lot more magically inclined than Pepper was in an instant.

He didn't protest, though. He knew the thing liked Peter and Peter _loved_ Pepper. She was safe from anything the cloak could do.

"I didn't," Peter told him, shrugging. "It woke me up covering me up and then I felt it lifting me. Not much, but it's not putting any pressure on my hip."

He looked slightly rebellious, as if he was expecting the doctor to tell him it wasn't the same and he still had to stay prone. Strange didn't, though. He simply walked over to the bed, too.

"Set him down for a minute, will you?" he said directly to the cloak. "I want to check his hip."

The boy was lowered to the bed and the heavy fabric moved to the side.

"Does it have to be wrapped around him to float him like that?" Pepper asked, curiously.

"It levitates _me_ , and it just touches my collar most of the time," Strange told her.

"Can it lift two people?" Tony asked.

"I don't see why not," Strange replied, carefully pulling the side of Peter's pajamas down to expose the bandages on his hip.

"Is there a weight limit?" Peter asked.

He felt a negative coming from the cloak, before Strange shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Could it lift the Hulk?" Tony asked.

Peter answered for the cloak.

"It says yes."

"Can it lift Thor's hammer?" Stark asked with a smirk.

"It doesn't carry inanimate objects," Strange said. "Only _people_."

"Could it lift Lila's pony?" Peter asked, wincing, and looking down at the wound Strange was treating with a medicated bandage. It was still red, but not as bad as before, he decided. "Peter Pony?"

Stephen looked up from the wound.

"She named him _Peter Pony_?"

The boy rolled his eyes and nodded. He'd assumed Natasha had told him.

"Yeah."

"I've never seen it lift an animal," the doctor admitted. "What is _it_ saying?"

The cloak gave a grudging yes in Peter's mind.

"I think it _could_ , but it wouldn't want to," the boy reported.

"Huh."

"Would it lift _me_?" Pepper asked, still fascinated. "Or is it just magicians and their favorite patients?"

"That would be up to it, I imagine," Strange told her, still focused more on Peter's injury than the conversation but well able to handle both at the same time. "It does what it wants, for the most part."

The cloak gave a cheerful assent in Peter's mind and reached that same corner out and tucked against her blouse. A moment later she gasped as she felt herself rise off the floor several inches, hover for a moment, and then slowly drift back.

"That's amazing."

She was smiling, and that reaction made Peter and Tony smile, too.

"We could hire it out for parties," Stark said, winking at Peter, well aware what the cloak would think of that particular idea. "Probably wouldn't need a magician or pony rides that way."

Predictably, the ancient relic reminded Tony that it wasn't afraid to administer an admonishing slap, and the same corner of fabric that had lifted Pepper reached out slapped Stark's shoulder. Peter felt only amusement coming from the thing and he realized suddenly that the cloak actually liked Tony.

There was a cheerful agreement in his mind, and the boy laughed as Stark pointed a finger at it, silently scolding it for the reprimand.

"How does it look, Stephen?" Pepper asked, also amused.

"Much better."

While they'd been distracted by the cloak, he'd put a new bandage on the wound and taped it securely down.

"I can get up, then?" Peter asked.

"No. Not until Sunday."

"But you said it's better."

"Better. Not _healed_. Do as I say and it'll be Sunday. Get rambunctious and reopen it and you'll be in bed until _Christmas_."

"But-"

Peter's protest was cut short by the cloak wrapping itself around him once more and again lifting him off the bed. He wanted to grumble, but his own indignation wasn't strong enough for him to feel it over the cheerful comfort the cloak was overwhelming him with.

Strange held up his hand.

"Don't argue with me, okay? The other option we have is to have Wong come up with a potion of some kind that might heal you from the inside – and there's no promise it would work that quickly. Your choice."

Knowing full well from past experiences just how awful Wong's medicines tasted, Peter fell silent. The doctor waited for any more argument, and then nodded.

" _Sunday_. It's only a few days away."

If you were stuck in bed it was a lifetime. Peter didn't say that, though. The cloak caressed his ears, and Tony turned to Strange.

"We're going to eat. Interested?"

"No. I'm going to go find Natasha. Thank you, though."

It was obvious that he was planning on staying at the compound, though, since the cloak didn't show any sign of leaving Peter, just then. Before he left, though, a large tray appeared in the middle of Peter's bed. On it was a meal for three, including porkchops, potatoes, salad, bread and coffee.

"That was nice," Pepper said, approvingly, as she went around to the other side of Peter's bed and settled on the uninjured side of the boy.

She _liked_ magic.

Tony agreed, went to Peter's fridge and pulled out a cola for the boy before joining his family on the bed.

"Elmer made his local news," Pepper told them as they settled in to eat their dinner.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, curiously.

She set the bread roll down and picked up her phone which was more convenient than her tablet.

" _Local man gets rescued by Ironman, spends 3 days snowed in with the Avengers in Montana."_ She smiled. "There's a picture of him with Tony at the cabin and a short article about Tony finding him lost in the snow and saving him, taking him back to the cabin and then getting snowed in with us. Nothing really intrusive and only the one picture. I'm impressed. He had enough material to write an entire book."

"No mention of Peter?" Stark asked.

"Only that we were there celebrating his birthday. Nothing else. Nothing about the other kids, either – although it does mention Captain America being there, too."

"If it'd been me, I'd have plastered every picture I could across the front page," Peter said, smiling. "And I'd have name dropped everyone."

"It does mention being rescued as a group by the military, and being transported home," Pepper said, putting her phone down, again so she could eat. "His wife said she was very grateful to everyone who saved his life."

"That's nice," Tony said. "Maybe she'll send me a postcard from Idaho."

He winked at Peter, amused and pleased that the man hadn't tried to gain any notoriety from being with their group. It made him feel a little better about that whole mess.

"Maybe we can send him something with an autograph," Pepper suggested. "It would impress his little girl, I bet."

Stark rolled his eyes, but he knew he would, because she wanted him to do it.

"Maybe."


	60. Chapter 60

After dinner they played Scrabble. It was interesting enough to engage Peter, and easy enough that he barely had to move at all to pull the tiles from the bag and put them on his holder and then on the board. Pepper asked him what he had done that day, and he tried hard not to sound peevish when he described the various ways he had learned that he could bounce a rubber ball off the wall and that he now knew the details of his bedroom walls fairly well. He changed the subject to her day as soon as he could, knowing that there was no way he could put a good spin on how he was feeling about being stuck in his bed.

Peter decided that Pepper looked a little worn out and weary. He watched her as they played, and while she didn't complain or anything, she _did_ yawn a few times – although she'd try to hide it. He decided that between working, driving to and from the tower and having taken care of all the planning and logistics for the trip to Montana, she was probably pretty tired, and it wasn't fair to her that she was spending the time she could be relaxing keeping him occupied. He was old enough to find something to do without keeping her – and Tony – at his side constantly.

Even if he _did_ enjoy their company. Together and separately.

When they finished the Scrabble game, Peter mentioned that he was a little tired and might just go to sleep, rather than play another game – if they didn't mind. Tony frowned, reaching out a hand to brush against his forehead.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just don't want to play anymore."

"You _won_ ," Tony pointed out.

He smiled.

"I know. I think I'll try to get some sleep."

"We don't mind keeping you company," Pepper assured him.

"Yeah. No. I know." He shrugged. "It wouldn't be interesting. Just watching me sleep, I mean. And I probably snore."

Stark looked over at Pepper, who smiled, and Peter realized that she knew what he was trying to do. She nodded and started picking up the pieces to the game, putting the tiles into their bag.

"You know how to reach us if you need anything…"

"Yeah."

"We'll come have breakfast with you," Tony told him.

"Okay. Sounds good."

"Do you need anything before we go?"

"No. I'm good." He reached for her hand, though, and she pulled him into a hug, cloak and all, and held him for a long moment, her cheek pressed against his.

"I love you, Peter Parker," she whispered in his ear. "I'm sorry you're stuck in bed. It'll get better, I promise."

He flushed, feeling a lump forming in his throat, and he found that he couldn't answer her to tell her that he loved her, too, and it wasn't terrible at all and didn't need to get better. Luckily, she seemed to understand that his silence wasn't disagreement, and she turned her head and kissed his cheek before letting him go with a tender smile and sliding off the bed. Tony followed suit, his expression content and his own hug for Peter an affectionate one.

"We'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Goodnight."

They left, and Peter sighed. As if it understood he was ready to be prone again, the cloak lowered him back to the bed and draped itself over him rather than be wrapped around him with fabric tucked underneath. He picked up the remote control, and turned on the TV. They had over a thousand channels streaming into the compound, if he couldn't find something to watch it was his own fault.

OOOOOOO

"Poor guy."

"He's going to be fine."

"I know. But he isn't right now, and it breaks my heart. You _know_ he didn't really want to be alone…"

"I know." Tony could be shallow, sometimes – a _lot_ of the time – really, but he was getting good at reading Peter. "He probably thinks we need a break from him."

"I don't."

"I don't, either. It won't kill him to be in bed for a few more days. It's not like he doesn't have plenty to keep him occupied – even if it feels like he's in prison."

"And if he sleepwalks because he wants to be somewhere else?"

"He's too sore to sleepwalk right now." She didn't look convinced, but he didn't give her a chance to argue about it. He put an arm around her and steered her toward their quarters. "You look tired."

"I am. It was a long day."

And an even longer week.

"Why don't you take a hot bath, and then I'll give you a massage before bed?"

"What if Peter needs something?"

"That's already taken care of, Pepper."

OOOOOOO

The cloak and his spider senses gave him warning at the same time. Peter looked over to the door just as Doctor Strange and Natasha appeared in the doorway. She was wearing lounge pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy warm socks, clearly done for the day. Strange was dressed casually – for him – in slacks and a polo shirt.

"What are you doing?" Natasha asked, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand reaching out to brush against his temple, since he was on his side.

"Watching TV. You?"

"Stephen has come to claim his cloak, so he can go home. _I've_ come to see if you'll keep me company, since he's leaving."

"I'm not very good company right now," he admitted, as the cloak lifted itself from his bed and attached itself to its usual position on the doctor's collar.

Romanoff smiled.

"I disagree."

"Is your hip bothering you, Peter?" Strange asked.

"No. I'm okay. Really."

"Do you need anything?"

Peter shook his head.

"Thanks. _Really_. For everything."

He was definitely aware that he took a lot of Doctor Strange's time taking care of him, and he _did_ appreciate it. Or at least he would, once he was out of bed and back on his feet.

"You're ridiculously easy to take care of," Strange told him with a casual shrug. "Besides, with you being hurt, it gives me an excuse to come see Natasha – so I should be thanking you."

The boy smiled at that.

"You don't really need an excuse," he pointed out.

"It makes it easier for me." He winked at the boy and gave Romanoff a smile. "I'll be by tomorrow sometime to check on you."

Then he vanished, taking the cloak with him.

"Was he talking to you, or to me?" Natasha asked with a smile.

"You're over the allergy thing, right?" Peter asked, reaching out and putting his hand close to hers. He was over _his_ , and while there had been different symptoms, they had still been similar. So she was probably feeling okay. She certainly _looked_ fine. "He was probably talking to me."

Romanoff rested her hand on his.

"So? Are you going to keep me company? Or send me packing?"

He shook his head and shifted sideways to give her space on his bed, and pulled his blankets back to offer her a place to lie down.

"How long can you stay?"

She settled in beside him, pulling his blankets back over the two of them.

"Depends on what you're watching on TV."

Peter smiled, and handed her the remote.


	61. Chapter 61

_It was cold, and dark, and he was scared. The tiny fire in front of him wasn't going to keep him warm all night, and he knew that if it went out, then he was really going to be in trouble. He rubbed his hands to warm them and then picked up the gun that he'd set on his thigh while he was trying to warm up._

 _The sound of a howling wolf in the distance once more sent shivers through him that had nothing to do with the weather and the snow that was falling all around him and had been for days, it seemed. Was it closer than the last time? Would a wolf attack him? Was his tiny fire enough to keep them away? He heard another noise – the most recent of many – and something moved in the dark. It frightened him and his grip on the gun tightened. Then there was a loud snap and the gun went off in response to the fear laced adrenaline that coursed through his system._

" _Peter!"_

" _I'm alright."_

 _He wasn't, though._

" _You're not alright," Strange told him, taking away the sled that he'd been holding. "But you_ will be _. That's my job."_

" _It hardly hurts. I don't need to stay in bed."_

" _Stay in bed," Pepper told him, gently. Her expression made him smile. Her hand touched his cheek and she smiled, too. "I love you."_

" _I'm okay, though."_

" _No," Tony said, holding him upright, keeping him from falling into the snow, his gloved hand smeared with scarlet. "You're_ not _."_

 _Pain was lacing through him, but he tried to ignore it. Couldn't let them know that he was sore, or they would worry. Everyone worried about him, but they didn't really need to. He was Spiderman, right?_

" _I'm Spiderman."_

" _Not until after Sunday," May told him, reaching out and touching his cheek. Her smile was tender, and his eyes filled with tears at the love he saw in her expression. Love that she couldn't provide him any longer – but had made sure to place him with the perfect people who could. "Until then you're_ Peter Pony."

" _I don't want to be in bed," he said, looking at the others._

" _Doctor's orders."_

" _I could get up."_

" _Better not."_

" _I have a_ rock _," he reminded them all, peevishly, his hand closing over the stone that was suddenly in his hand. "I can go anywhere. Any time."_

" _Do you_ want _to go somewhere else?" Wanda asked him, pointedly, her pretty face tinged with red like it always seemed to be when he saw her._

 _Natasha gathered him into her arms and he put his head against her collarbone, listening to her heart beating against his cheek. He didn't really even need the superhero hearing that he had to listen to the steady beat. It was that close. And comforting. He was safe with her._

" _No. I want to be_ here _."_

" _Then stay with me," Romanoff told him._

" _Okay."_

" _Give Natasha the rock, Peter," Wanda told him, gently, her touch completely different than Natasha's. She was touching his mind, while Natasha's hold was physical and even Pepper was suddenly holding him fast; her grip on the more subtle – but just as powerful – aching need that he had to be loved. "You don't need it right now."_

Peter stirred, restless, and opened his eyes, tilting his head up. Natasha was still beside him, her hand brushing against his hair, idly.

"Natasha?"

"Hey, baby."

"Here…" He handed her the teleportation stone, and she took it without comment and then put it on the stand by his bed. "I don't need that, right now."

Romanoff nodded, shifting just a little.

"No. You don't. Go to sleep, okay? Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

He put his now empty hand back on her stomach and closed his eyes.

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to play a new game."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"A _card_ game?" he asked, sleepily, feeling something right on the edge of his consciousness soothing him and reminding him that he was supposed to be sleeping. The tinge of red told him who it was, but he didn't mind. "I'm not good at cards."

"No. I know. Go to sleep. You'll find out after breakfast."

"Okay."

OOOOOOOO

"Do you feel better?"

Vision opened his eyes and looked at Maximoff.

"I don't _feel_ anything, Wanda. Better or worse. But the pressure is gone, yes. Is the boy asleep again?"

"Yes." She sat down on the sofa, closing her eyes; comfortable with Vision and the magical embrace of the gem in his head. "He's so complicated."

"I understand that is a common theme with teen-aged boys."

"Teen-aged boys that have the powers he does are luckily few and far between."

"Luckily."

"You told Natasha how to keep him in bed?"

"Yes. She doesn't know it was me, of course – or the Mind stone – but the idea is there, now, and she knows what to do."

"Will it work?"

"Probably. For a couple of days, anyway. He's intelligent enough that he bores, easily, and young and used to being active. Enforced inactivity is not easy on him."

"You just need to keep him in bed until he heals."

"Too bad your stone isn't one that can heal him _faster_ ," she said with a smile.

"It wouldn't be able to get close enough to do it, even if it _could_ heal with a touch. The damage it caused would be greater than anything it cured."

Maximoff rolled her eyes. He was almost all knowing, and with the infinity stone in his head, he seemed indestructible, but Vision definitely needed to work on understanding facetiousness. She didn't mind. They had plenty of time to work on that.

"Do you need any more help with him?"

"No. The stone is calm, now that Peter is. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

OOOOOOO

"He slept all night?"

"No. But _most_ of it. He had a moment there, when the teleporting stone showed up in his hand, but he woke up and handed it to me and told me he didn't need it just then."

"Really?"

Strange had come to the compound fairly late in the morning, assuming everyone would be up and about. He knew that Natasha had planned on spending the night with Peter to keep him in his bed, hopefully, but had figured that the boy would have been woken and fed by then and Natasha would be going about her regular daily responsibilities.

Instead, he'd found her in the lounge, drinking a morning cup of coffee and relaxing over a late breakfast. He'd joined her, rather than follow the cloak to Peter's room, curious how the night had gone.

"Yes. I'd say he was having an interesting dream, too, to judge by the way he was mumbling to himself in his sleep – almost like he was arguing with someone."

"He might have been," Strange said, shrugging. "I've noticed him do it, before. Tony's with him, now?"

"Yes."

"I think I'll go check on him. I hate to wake him up if he's sleeping, but we'll want to feed him breakfast and he'll have plenty of time to sleep later if he's still tired, stuck in bed like he is."

"I actually have an idea that might keep him occupied – or at least distracted," Natasha told him with a smile.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She got up, stretching lazily, feeling good for having slept the entire night with Peter. Despite the fact that she was always aware of what he was doing when she was with him, she seemed to get her best sleep with him cuddled beside her. "Come on, I'll tell you about it on the way to his room."


	62. Chapter 62

Tony looked up when they entered Peter's bedroom. Stark had settled himself next to the boy's uninjured side and was reading something on his tablet while Peter slept. He was on his side, tucked against Tony, with his face pressed lightly against the billionaire's shirt. The hand that wasn't holding the tablet was resting on Peter's shoulder and the boy had a hand draped across Tony's stomach. Covering Peter – and overlapping a little to cover a small portion of Tony's leg, the Cloak of Levitation looked like an ugly blanket at the moment. Occasionally a piece of the heavy fabric would move, caressing Peter's ear, or cheek, or simply readjusting itself to be more comfortable for its charge.

"I figured you were here," Stark said by way of greeting as he set the tablet aside. "You need to put a bell on your cloak."

"Why do you say that?" Strange asked, curiously, walking over to the bed.

"It about scared the liver out of me when it came around the corner and zoomed in here like it owned the place."

Strange smirked.

"You can try to teach it to _knock_ , I suppose."

Natasha smiled, and Stark tossed her an exasperated look.

"Did you get some breakfast?"

"Yes, dad."

"Don't _sass_ me, young lady. I'll turn you over my knee."

Now it was Romanoff who smirked, amused at the threat – which was a good indicator of Stark's emotional state just then. Clearly, he was in a good mood, despite the fact that he was facing another day of keeping a bored Peter occupied and in bed. Or maybe _because_ of it. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I _dare_ you."

Stark smiled, and shrugged.

"Pepper probably wouldn't approve."

"Neither would _Stephen_ ," she pointed out.

He turned to Strange, changing the subject, even though he did love to flirt – and he'd known Romanoff so long that she was comfortable enough to give as much as she got. Obviously.

"Do you want us to wake him?"

The doctor nodded.

"Yes. He looks comfortable. But I want to check his hip and I want him to eat. He can always go back to sleep if he's still tired once I'm done and he's fed."

"He won't."

Tony didn't seem upset by that possibility, though. He knew Peter was bored in bed – and yes, he was a bit surly about the whole thing – but Stark didn't mind. He figured it was part of the better or worse thing that came with adopting Peter, and time well spent despite the moodiness. He reached down and brushed his palm against Peter's cheek, using his forefinger to tap him, gently. The cloak was a bit more direct. It normally would have brushed Stark's hand away if it wanted to keep Peter asleep, but instead, this time it rubbed a corner of itself against Peter's ear, tapping less gently than Tony was.

Peter opened his eyes, sleepily, and looked up at Stark, first, and then at the others.

"Did I sleepwalk?" he asked, proving to them what his main concern was – and _always_ was, really.

Tony shook his head.

"No. Stephen wants to check your hip and see if you're ready for salsa lessons. Then we're going to feed you."

"Okay."

"Sit up, Peter," Strange told him, waving the cloak to the side as the boy did what he was told, wincing and borrowing a little support with a hand on Stark's knee to get upright.

Then Peter looked over at Natasha, pointedly, and the assassin rolled her eyes. The boy had just spent the night cuddled practically skin to skin with her, his head inches from places very few were allowed near, and his hand almost intimately familiar with her thigh and belly. But he was embarrassed to show a little bit of his _hip_? It was just crazy enough to be something a teen-aged boy would come up with.

"I won't look," she promised, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down – turning her head pointedly toward his dresser.

Strange smiled, too, and he exposed enough hip to check the wound carefully before he rebandage it, working with his usual efficiency.

"You can look, now, Natasha," he told her as the cloak settled itself back on Peter's shoulder for now.

"How's he doing?"

"It looks good."

"I can get up?" Peter asked.

"No. But I will allow you _to sit up_ – in _bed_. If it looks as good tomorrow morning with no indication that you're overdoing it, I'll even let you go as far as the sofa."

Peter made a sarcastic noise, but he was too good natured to be very sincere about it. Besides, he wasn't going to be stuck on his back, or his side or his belly all day, and that was a win – of sorts.

"Ready for breakfast?" Tony asked.

"Yes."

"Preference?" Strange asked, which told him that he would just summon it and save someone the trouble of getting up and fetching it.

Not to mention, it was late enough that the selection wouldn't be very assorted if they went to either the lounge or the commissary to get it.

"Did you all eat, already?" Peter asked.

"Yes."

"Pancakes."

He really wanted French toast – and if Natasha hadn't eaten, he might have requested it, despite the somewhat annoyed look that Tony would have flashed. But if everyone had eaten, he would have pancakes and spare Stark a little grumbling.

A tray appeared, and the doctor waited until Peter had started eating before speaking up again, looking at Tony.

"I'll be at the sanctum all day if anything comes up."

"Thanks, Stephen."

"You're welcome." He turned his gaze to Peter. "Wong said to tell you hello, and that he has a new list of magical items that he wants to try cataloging when you're feeling better."

"We could do it _here_ ," Peter said, looking interested and suddenly thinking that his day could be a lot less dull than he thought it was going to be.

"Not a chance," Strange said, shaking his head before Stark could open his mouth to veto the idea. "The sanctum has magical protections that this compound doesn't. If an item were to go rogue – or suddenly show its true nature, the damage done here could be catastrophic. In the sanctum, it would just be an inconvenience."

"Has it ever happened before?" Stark asked, curiously.

"Yes. Both during my tenure as Sorcerer Supreme and several times before me. Which is the whole point of having the protections that we do."

"That, and to keep the evil wizards out, right?" Peter said.

"That, too," Strange conceded, not bothering to correct Peter's phrasing of wizard. He wasn't referring to himself, so it wasn't annoying. "But when you have a tinderbox like the sanctum sitting in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world, it behooves you to make sure an errant match won't level the place."

"Then why put them in the big cities?" Stark asked, curiously. "Put it in BFE, instead."

Strange's smile showed that he understood the acronym and he shook his head.

"The sanctums were there before the cities. Moving them now would be problematical, and so difficult that it would be next to impossible. We're better off keeping them where they are and maintaining the protections. I'll tell Wong to start collecting a few items, and when you're back on your feet, we'll borrow you. Maybe for a weekend."

Tony nodded his acceptance of that, very much aware that Peter would enjoy a weekend in the sanctum.

"No _toasters_ , though," he reminded the magician. "Or ceiling fans. Or, for that matter, nothing that has teeth – or sharp edges."

Strange's expression was one of long suffering, but Natasha only smiled.

"Eat, Peter," she told him. "Then we'll find something entertaining to do."

Although she could spend hours listening to Stark and Stephen banter. The boy nodded, and turned his attention to his breakfast. He vaguely remembered that she had mentioned sometime in the night that she had a game they could play, and he was curious what it was.


	63. Chapter 63

"Are you _sure_ this is a game?"

Natasha looked up from the laptop she had in front of her. Peter had one, as well, as did Tony. They were all sitting on his bed, and had been for almost an hour, now.

"You're not having fun?"

"I _am_ ," he said. "It just seems like a sneaky way to get me to do homework or something…"

Romanoff smiled.

The game was a simple one, really. They each had a laptop, and were connected to the internet through the network in the compound – one of the fastest and most comprehensive in the world – and were doing what could only be referred to as a scavenger hunt. Each of them had the same list in front of them and had to find a website that had an example of the item, or the concept, or the person on the list. They had to go in order, and they had to copy and paste the item into a document that would then be added up and scored once they were done.

One of the stipulations that made the game more interesting was that no one could use the same image or _all_ of them were forfeited. Another was that if you couldn't _find_ the image you needed, you could use an art program to create one. It took more time, of course, but was a guarantee that your image would be unique.

It was competitive and a little exciting and a lot interesting, and Peter wasn't lying when he said he was having a good time. But it _did_ seem like homework, as well.

"It's _not_ homework. I promise."

"And not some warped way of getting us to do research for some random new project?" Peter asked Tony, who had looked up from his own web search for an example of a one-eyed-one-horned-flying-purple-people-eater and was watching the conversation.

"Why would I need you to search for a lemming scratching its back with a pinecone?"

Which was almost certainly an image that they would all be creating in order to get points for it.

"I don't know. Something new for your suit?"

Stark rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Maybe the left handed can opener, but not a lemming."

The room went silent as they continued working on their lists, the only sound the clicking of the keyboards when they were doing a web search, or typing in a label if they had to make an image. They were so focused, in fact, that none of them noticed when Steve and Barton came to the doorway of Peter's bedroom more than an hour later and stood watching them, quietly, waiting to see which one of them looked up, first.

It ended up being Peter. He might not have been the first to realize that they were there; Natasha was always fully aware of what was going on around her and who was in her vicinity. Peter's spider senses told him someone was around as well, but when it was someone that he knew, liked and trusted, then they didn't scream at him. It was more of a gentle prodding to make sure he wasn't startled.

"What are you guys doing?" Steve asked when Peter looked up.

He was holding Jack under one arm, and the puppy was watching them all, cheerfully – although Peter figured he was also trying to find something to chew on.

"At the moment?" Stark replied. "I'm drawing a falling angel…"

Barton wasn't the only one to frown.

"Why?"

"Because it's on my list."

"What list?" Rogers asked.

"I don't have a falling angel on my list," Peter said, picking up his paper.

"It's number 41," Stark said.

"That's a _fallen_ angel, Tony," Natasha told him. "Not _falling_."

"What?" He scowled, picking up his list. "Son of a b-"

"What are you doing?" Clint asked, coming over and plopping himself on the bed beside Romanoff, looking over her shoulder and picking up the list in front of her.

Peter explained the game, while Tony looked at his own list, clearly trying to decide if he was going to be able to bluff a falling angel into a fallen angel.

"Why aren't _we_ playing this game, too?" Steve asked.

"You can play round two, if you want," Natasha told him. "If we finish this list, I'll have Pepper make one for tomorrow."

"I've never heard of this…" Barton said. "How'd you come up with it?"

"I just thought of it," she admitted with a shrug.

"It's fun," Peter said.

"I'm glad you approve," Romanoff said, taking her list from Clint. "What are _you_ guys doing?"

"Finished our training runs," Steve said, reaching out and taking Peter's paper, curious as to what kind of items would be on the list. " _We_ could play this… I bet we could catch up."

"Not a chance," Stark said. "We have too much of a head start. You'd be working on it until dinner time."

"Is there a time limit?" Barton asked.

"No, but the first one finished gets extra bonus points."

"I'm going to go get my laptop," Rogers decided. His quarters were right beside Natasha's, so it wasn't too far away.

"Peter? You have an extra laptop, don't you?" Clint asked.

"Yeah." He had the one that Pepper and Tony had provided, but also his original one, that he and Tony had brought from the tower when he'd sorted through the items from his old room. "Want to borrow it?"

"Can I?"

"Sure." He gestured toward his dresser, where the new one had been placed on top, out of the way. "Help yourself."

"Tony? We're going to need a couple more lists."

Stark rolled his eyes and pulled himself away from his laptop. Aside from being competitive, he hated being interrupted when he was involved in a project. Even a project that had been invented for the sole purpose of distracting a teenager. But he was also enjoying the fact that Peter was well and truly having a good time, and knew that adding Clint and Steve to the game was only going to make it more fun for the boy.

It didn't mean he had to be gracious about being interrupted, though.

"No one gets to work on their list until I get back."

He left with his paper in hand, heading for the lounge where there was a copy machine. Clint picked up the laptop from Peter's dresser and settled himself at the foot of Peter's bed, opening it up and powering it on.

"Good idea, Nat."

Peter nodded his agreement.

OOOOOOOO

Tony was waiting in the garage when Pepper arrived home. She smiled a greeting as he held her door for her, brushing a kiss against her cheek when she handed him her bag.

"How was the drive?"

"Fine. Relaxing. How was your day?"

"It was good. Spent the day with Peter."

Of course.

She nodded, and they left the garage. She'd want to drop her things off in their rooms, but then would check on Peter and see if he was about ready for dinner.

"How's he doing?"

"Stephen checked him this morning and is allowing him to sit up in bed – and only in _bed_ , still. But it's an improvement."

"Did he have a good day?"

Tony nodded.

"Romanoff came up with an online scavenger hunt for us to play and we spent the day doing it."

" _All day?"_

"We stopped for lunch. And to clarify a few rules when Steve and Clint decided that they wanted to play, too. And to debate the difference between the words falling and fallen. Aside from that, yeah. All day."

"And it was _fun_? You didn't have to bribe him into it?"

"Nope. He seemed to really be having a good time."

"Who won?"

"We don't know, yet. The judge just got home and hasn't looked through the entries, yet."

"Me?"

"If you're not too tired," he said. "And you're willing."

"I can't be partial."

"You don't _have_ to be. We all know I won."

"And they agree?"

"Of course not. That's why we need a _judge_. Some of the images are pretty similar."

He explained the game as they walked, and she frowned, changing out of the business suit that she'd worn to work and into jeans and a polo shirt with a little Ironman instead of a polo pony emblem.

"How many items are on this list?" she asked as they headed toward Peter's rooms, now.

"101."

"Seriously?"

"Some are easy. Arm and Hammer. Unicorn and rainbow. Dancing pig."

Pepper shook her head.

"I'm not judging it alone."

It would take her all evening, and she wanted a chance to relax and spend some quality time with him and Peter.

"Maybe Nick will volunteer."

"Maybe monkeys will fly out of my bottom…"

He smiled.

"Let's hope not."

They were both still smiling when they reached Peter's rooms. Aware that he was stuck in bed, it was pretty much a given that no one actually knocked on his front door. Instead, they walked in and tapped lightly on the door to his bedroom – which was also open. Peter was sitting on his bed alone. Which surprised Pepper, since she'd expected there to be a crowd.

Tony was, too, obviously.

"Where'd everyone go?" he asked the boy.

"They went to get dinner – and Steve said he had to go feed Jack."

"They left you?"

Peter smiled at the exasperation in Tony's voice.

"They offered to hang out until you guys came, but I told them it was all right."

Pepper sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey, Pepper," he gave her a hug, genuinely pleased to see her. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yeah. We did this scavenger hunt thing online. It was fun."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

"Me, too. We can do another one, sometime, though," he promised. "They take a while to do, but the list probably doesn't take long to make."

"What kind of list?"

He reached over and handed her the list that he'd used. All of the laptops had been put away, and the resulting images and collages had yet to be printed, so his bed was neat and not cluttered like it had been before. Pepper scanned the paper with interest and then handed it back.

"I can't wait to see what you guys came up with for some of those."

"It was interesting."

"I imagine." She brushed his forehead with her fingers. "Are you ready for dinner, yet?"

He nodded.

"You're going to stay?"

Pepper nodded, smiling. It was nice to be wanted.

"Of course."


	64. Chapter 64

Pepper stayed to keep Peter company when Tony went to fetch them some dinner. They didn't know what was on the menu in the lounge or in the commissary, but both had told Stark that they didn't care what it was he brought them. Peter knew Tony wasn't going to feed him something he didn't like – and by now he knew what he didn't like, anyway – and Pepper was fairly open to anything, as long as it wasn't too greasy. Which Tony also knew. When he left, Pepper settled herself against Peter's headboard, and had to resist the urge to cuddle him.

He wasn't feeling miserable, and probably didn't need comforting, and as much as she wanted to hold him and remind him that she loved being right there with him, she settled for simply sitting close.

"Tell me more about your day," she said, reaching out and brushing an errant lock of hair from his eyes. The boy seemed to always need a haircut. "What else did you do? Did you get any rest?"

"I slept in," he told her. "So I didn't need a nap, or anything. Doctor Strange came and checked my hip and said I could sit up – and that maybe tomorrow I can go to the couch, even."

"That's progress."

"Yeah. Then he left and Natasha started telling me and Tony about her new game." He frowned. "I think she was telling me about it last night, too, but I might have been dreaming it."

"Sounds like fun, though."

"It is. It would have been more fun if you were playing, too."

She smiled.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here with you guys."

"Oh. No." He shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that." The boy reached for her hand. "You had to work, I get it. I _do_." He didn't want her to think that he felt like she wasn't paying enough attention to him. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that I like your company, too."

"I appreciate that, Peter," she told him – and now she _did_ hug him, again, unable to help herself. "I enjoy spending time with you, too. Really."

"It's not like you weren't snowed in with me for days just a little while ago," he pointed out. "It'd probably be selfish of me to want to have you to myself all the time. Tony should have some time with you, too."

Pepper smiled.

"We'll figure it out," she promised him. "Before I forget, though, did you want me to invite Ned out this weekend? I wasn't sure – with you being stuck in bed. I assume you won't want MJ out."

"Uh. Yeah. No. No, not MJ. And not _Ned_ , really, either. He'd go crazy if we had to just hang out in my rooms. He likes to explore, you know?"

"Yeah." She touched his cheek. "Looks like I'll have you to myself a little this weekend, then."

That thought pleased him, she could see. Which made her want to hug him, again. Instead, she asked him more about the game that had apparently kept him so distracted that he wasn't even complaining about being stuck in his bed.

"You're supposed to be the judge," he told her. "Some of the images might be the same and if they are, then you disqualify them. I think Tony wanted you to judge so that you'll make him the winner…"

"I heard that," Stark said from the doorway. He'd returned with a serving cart that held several silver covered platters, a pot of coffee, plates, silverware for three and an entire chocolate cream pie. "Just for that, I'm going to tell her to put you in last place."

"She wouldn't do that."

Pepper frowned, looking at the cart and not paying attention to the squabble about the game.

"A whole pie, Tony?"

Stark shrugged.

"We can put whatever we don't eat in the fridge. He can have it tomorrow."

"I might eat it all _tonight_ ," Peter told her. "Then we wouldn't need to worry about the fridge."

"You are _not_ eating the whole pie tonight," she told him, giving him a look that Tony recognized immediately.

He saw it all the time, after all.

Peter smiled, slyly, and Pepper realized that he was teasing her. The _scamp_!

"I think you're spending too much time with Tony," she chided him, amused and delighted, both. "He's rubbing off on you."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Tony said, pushing the cart right up against the bed and passing out plates. "I _like_ it."

She did, too, but she'd never admit it. Instead, Pepper moved a little away from Peter to give him the room he needed to eat.

"Eat. Then we'll decide what we want to do tonight."

"You have to look at our papers," Stark reminded her. "We need a declared winner."

"I'll take them with me tomorrow and look through them, then. I want to spend some down time with my guys tonight."

Tony didn't even scowl or pout. He just smiled. What a difference from the workaholic overachiever she used to be!

"I think that's a great idea, honey."

OOOOOOOO

"He didn't last long, did he?"

Tony smiled, his gaze tender as he looked down at the boy who was dozing, sprawled on his bed with his head resting on Peppers leg.

"Longer than I _expected_ him to, really."

They'd had dinner; a homestyle meal of chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, corn and stuffing. Along with the pie, of course. Then Peter had suggested a movie, which suited Pepper and Tony just fine. They wanted him to have a chance to wind down, and watching a movie would give him that opportunity. Tony had taken the remains of their dinner back to the commissary – except for the pie, which ended up covered and put into Peter's fridge for later consumption – and had told them to decide what movie they wanted to see while he was gone.

When he'd returned, they were waiting for him. Pepper was sitting up against Peter's headboard, propped by pillows. Peter was curled on his uninjured side, his head resting on her leg. They were waiting for him so they could start the movie, and he simply turned all the lights off and settled in on the other side of Pepper, sliding an arm around her and pulling a blanket up over Peter, first, and then using another to cover them.

Peter hadn't made it more than halfway through the movie before they both realized that he was sleeping. They didn't wake him, and they didn't leave just yet. It was a good movie, and the company was relaxing. They'd simply cuddled, enjoying quiet, family time – with each other and with Peter, even though he wasn't awake to share the good feeling. And when the movie was over, Tony simply turned it – and the TV – off.

"You saw his hip?"

"Yes. It's nothing like it was, before. It's healing well."

"Stephen isn't holding back?"

"No. He's doing great, Pepper. How could he _not_? He has you to take care of him."

She looked down at the boy, brushing her fingers against his temple, but being careful not to wake him.

"Is Natasha going to stay with him tonight?"

"Yeah. She'll be along in a while. We can go to bed, now, or wait for her. Whichever you want to do."

"Let's stay here, then," she decided. "I'd rather not risk waking him by jostling him more than necessary."

And besides, she was fine, right where she was.

Tony nodded, and stole a kiss before she realized he was doing it.

"Good idea."


	65. Chapter 65

"Is he sleeping through the night?"

"He seems to be. Some dreams – even last night – but nothing that brings him awake in a panic or anything."

"Should he be sleeping so much, Stephen?"

"He's _healing_ , Tony. It takes a lot out of him. Probably _more_ , with Peter, since he heals so much faster."

"He _isn't_ though, is he?"

"The wound looks good," Strange said. "If it were any other 16-year-old, he'd be in a hospital for weeks. As it is, I'm inclined to let him out of bed – only as far as his sofa, though – until I check him out on Sunday."

Peter stirred, roused by the voices above him and the fact that the Cloak of Levitation was humming cheerfully in his mind. He opened his eyes and found he was still in Natasha's arms, where he'd been since the night before. He remembered watching movies and at that time he'd been with Pepper and Tony, but had woken when Natasha had joined them, sliding easily into the space beside him that Pepper vacated after brushing a kiss against his temple and telling him that she'd see him the next day. Romanoff had settled him wordlessly beside her and had simply covered him up and had gone to sleep. Peter had followed suit only moments later.

Now she was looking down at him, her expression pleased.

"Good morning."

"Hey."

He lifted his head, turning in time to see that Dr. Strange was rebandaging his hip.

"It looks good, Peter," Strange told him, hitching his pajamas up, carefully. "I'd say it's safe for you to move around a little. As far as your sofa, anyway."

Peter nodded, closed his eyes and put his head back against Natasha's collarbone.

"Thanks, Dr. Strange."

"You're welcome. I'll be back sometime tonight or tomorrow to check on him, Tony. Don't let him move around more than he really needs to. We don't want him overdoing things this time."

"We'll keep an eye on him," Tony promised.

"Good. You know where to find me if you need me."

The doctor left. Peter didn't actually see him go, but he felt the tingle of magic, and then didn't feel the humming of the cloak in his mind, which told him the relic had left with Strange.

"Are you ready for breakfast, Peter?"

"No. I'm sleepy."

He heard Natasha chuckle, and shift under him.

"I need to get up, baby. I'm going to turn you over to Tony, okay?"

"Yeah." He moved just enough to let her move, but he still didn't open his eyes. "Thanks, Natasha."

He knew that she was making a sacrifice, sleeping in his bed with him like she was, and he appreciated it. He felt her fingers brush his cheek.

"You're welcome. I'll check in with you guys, later."

Natasha left and Peter felt Tony join him on the bed beside him – although Stark didn't cover up. He felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder.

"Are you going to go back to sleep?"

"Is Pepper here?"

"Yes. She'll be by in a bit to check on you before she leaves."

"I'll stay awake, then." He could sleep later, he knew. He also knew that if he didn't want to fall asleep, he'd need to open his eyes. So he did. Stark was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, clearly not dressed to go to any meetings that day. Peter wondered if him being hurt was interfering with Tony's regular schedule. He didn't know what he'd planned on doing that week, but the boy was certain that it hadn't included what amounted to baby-sitting – and he was groggy enough that he asked. "Am I keeping you from doing something important?"

Stark frowned.

"You must know by now that there isn't anything more important to me than you."

Peter _did_ know. Tony was pretty clear about it, after all.

"You know what I mean. I _can_ be alone. I'm not sick, and not delirious or anything. I'm not going to wander off if left unattended. If you need to be somewhere – or if _Pepper_ needs you for something, I'll be okay by myself."

"You're more interesting than board meetings."

Peter snorted.

"Does that mean you're missing a board meeting?"

"If I were, it would be because I _want_ to," Tony told him. "Not because of you. You're just a handy excuse."

"But-"

Stark held up a hand to stop him.

"Look. Peter. I'm new at the dad thing, you know that. If I'm going a little overboard, it's probably to be expected. I'm also still pretty new at putting others before myself, and you know _that_ , too. Just bear with me, okay? And indulge me. Right now, with you hurt, I need to be with you. Maybe you don't need me here quite so much, and I'm stifling you, but I'm still selfish enough to do it, anyway. At least for another day. Okay?"

"If you're sure."

"I _am_."

" _You am_ what?"

They both turned and saw Pepper standing in Peter's doorway.

"I am the winner from yesterday's online scavenger hunt," Tony said, smoothly.

She crossed the room and settled herself on the edge of Peter's bed, brushing her hand against his forehead.

"I thought I was the judge of that."

"You _are_. I was just thinking that in the interest of saving you time, I'd –"

"I have the papers with me," she interrupted, holding her bag and giving him an amused look. "Happy is going to help me go through them, and tonight, with proper pomp and ceremony, I will announce the winner."

Peter smiled at Tony's annoyed look and pulled himself upright, feeling the familiar tinge of annoyance from his hip – although maybe it wasn't as bad as it had been.

"What did Stephen say?" Pepper asked.

"Peter's hip looks good. He can get out of bed and sit on his couch – but no further, for now."

"That's a good start. What are you guys going to do today, then?"

"Peter seems to think that I should go to a board meeting."

She frowned.

"We don't have a board meeting today."

"See?" Stark said to Peter. "I don't have a board meeting, today. Instead, he and I are going to sit around on the couch, playing video games, eating junk food and scratching ourselves."

Pepper shook her head.

"Walk me to the car?"

"Of course."

Tony got out of Peter's bed and she leaned over and kissed him.

"If he drives you crazy today, just call me and I'll tell him to stop."

"I'm not going to drive him crazy," Stark assured her, taking her bag from her with a wink at the boy. "But I _might_ challenge him to some 3-D chess and see if I can beat him. He's not good at it, yet."

"Neither are you."

"That's irrelevant. Peter? I'll be back in a minute. Decide what you want for breakfast, and what you want to do today. Once I get momma off to work, we can get ourselves into some trouble."

They left and Peter dragged himself out of his bed, as well. He was shaky and tired, but knew it was from being stuck in bed for so long. He ignored the ache in his side, stopped in the bathroom and then pulled a blanket from his bed and dragged it to the sofa. If he was going to be allowed to leave the bed, then he was going to take advantage of it before anyone could change their minds.

He sat down with a tired sigh, worn out just from the short walk and leaning just a little away from the wounded hip. He covered up, even though his quarters weren't at all chilly, and reached for the remote control.

By the time Tony returned from the garage, the boy was asleep again.


	66. Chapter 66

"Hey, Peter… Wake up."

He opened his eyes, confused, and looked around. Tony was sitting next to him, but he wasn't the one who had spoken. Stark was lounging, relaxed, with his feet propped up on Peter's coffee table and a cup of coffee in one hand. Clint was sitting on the coffee table, with a large brown box in his hands, watching Peter, expectantly.

"What?"

"This just came for you."

The boy rubbed his face, sleepily, and glanced at his watch. It was just after noon and he'd pretty much slept the whole day, getting woken by Tony long enough to eat breakfast and then start a movie. A movie he hadn't finished. The TV was off, now, and Peter wondered if Tony had watched the movie until the end, or had turned it off when he'd fallen asleep.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a _box_ ," Tony told him, amused.

"From Pepper?"

Clint frowned.

"Why would Pepper send you a box?" he asked. "She could just bring it home with her."

"I don't know."

"Check it out and see," Tony suggested.

"It's from Kayla and Caitlyn Rupp," Clint told him, handing the box over to the boy now that he was sitting up and had a lap to put it in without risking jarring his hip.

"Who's that?"

"Judging from the name, I'd say they are related to Elmer."

The box was heavy, and Peter looked at the shipping label. It was from Boise, Idaho, and like Clint had said, it was from Kayla and Caitlyn Rupp. He worried at the tape on the edge for a few moments until Clint handed him a knife and then he slit the seams, easily, and opened the box.

There was a black leather case inside, and on it a postcard that had a picture of a potato wearing sunglasses that said _Greetings from Idaho!_ in bold letters with a mountain range in the background and a clear blue sky.

Peter picked it up and turned it over. There was a note on the back; the handwriting so perfect that it almost looked like it was preprinted on the card.

"What does it say?" Tony asked, curiously.

 _"Dear Peter. Get well soon. Here is something to keep you occupied during your recovery. Love, Kayla and Caitlyn Rupp."_

The boy handed Tony the card, and pulled the case out of the box. It was a hard case, with a handle and a zipper that went across the side. Peter opened it and pulled the lid back. Inside was a camera similar to the one that Elmer had been using while they were in Montana.

"Wow…"

He pulled the camera out of the case, and saw that there were three different lenses for it, each tucked protectively in their own spaces. Along with five memory cards – also in small plastic snap on cases – and a small booklet that a quick glance showed was a reference and how to guide for using the entire set up.

"I didn't know you were into photography," Clint said, impressed.

"I'm _not_ ," Peter told him. "I mean, I _wasn't_. I could learn, though…"

"That's pretty nice," Stark said, looking at the card and reading it, again. "This must be Elmer's wife and kid."

"Yeah. I never learned their names."

"You didn't have any reason to learn them," Tony pointed out. "And not a lot of time – in between being shot and all."

It was obvious that Tony still wasn't completely over the whole thing, although he privately had to admit that the camera gift was a nice touch. Peter knew him well enough to know that the bland expression wasn't the same as an angry one, and he just smiled and set the camera back in its case and looked at the various lenses. They were conveniently labeled.

"Telescopic, night, and fish-eyed."

"You'll have to try them out," Clint told him. "After Strange lets you out of your room, of course."

"Thanks for bringing it in," Peter said, closing the case and then putting it back in the box and setting the box on the coffee table. "What are you guys doing?"

"We're getting ready to drop some jumpers tonight. Nat and Steve are going over the schedule with the jumpmaster. I just happened to be outside when the delivery guy came up the road looking for you."

Peter managed to control his disappointment when he heard that they were going to take the Quinjet up for a flight, knowing full well that he wasn't going to be allowed to go flying just then – especially since the flight would have included aerials that he had no business trying to deal with in his condition. He must not have hid it very well, though, because Clint reached out and rubbed his hair.

"Don't worry," he told the boy. "There'll be other flights. Faster and more exciting."

"I know."

Barton stood up.

"I need to go. If you guys are planning another one of those internet scavenger hunts, don't start it without me."

He winked at Peter and then left, and Tony slapped Peter's shoulder. He'd seen the disappointment on the boy's face before he'd managed to hide it, too, and he understood completely.

"Since you're awake, how about we have lunch and then I school you in 3-D chess?"

Peter nodded, smiling, and glad for the distraction.

"Sounds good."

OOOOOOOOO

As usual, Stark was waiting for Pepper when she pulled into the garage that evening. She smiled, thoroughly enjoying the fact that she could almost expect to see him first thing when she was done for the day, and that she could unwind with him, leaving the workday behind her for a little relaxation. Even better, it was Friday, and she had an entire weekend to look forward to, now. Down time with him and with Peter.

He opened her door, took her bag as usual, and then kissed her hello, but instead of the usual greeting, he gave her a look that she didn't quite know how to interpret.

"What?" she asked, curiously.

"You need to have a talk with your son."

She frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Peter?"

"How many sons do you have?"

Technically, she didn't have _any_ , but Peter was pretty close to the real deal.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something is wrong. Something is definitely _wrong_ , Pepper. He's a _hustler_. He acts all young, and innocent and ' _oh, it's a new game and I don't know how to play it – I just got it for my birthday'_ and then he lets you win a game or two and then all of a sudden you want to make it _interesting_ and suddenly the boy can't lose…"

"What are you talking about?" she asked. Then she tilted her head. "Did you _wager_ with him? _Again_?"

"Yeah. Because he's a _hustler_."

"What did you lose?"

"That's not important. The point is, your son is a hustler."

"Wait… so if he saves a woman from being mugged, he's _your_ son."

"Right."

Of course.

"But if he beats you in chess…. Then he's _mine_?"

"No. If he hustles innocent people, _then_ he's yours."

She shook her head, amused, and shut the car door and headed for their quarters, anxious to get changed into something more casual and then go see how Peter was doing. Tony walked beside her, his arm coming around her waist as they walked.

"Are you going to tell me what you lost?"

"He cheated."

"Tell me it isn't the tower."

"He doesn't _want_ the tower."

"The compound?"

"No."

"Tony…"

Stark sighed.

"I have to give his academic decathlon team an all-day field trip to the compound. Guided by yours truly."

"Really?"

She smiled.

"It's not funny. Do you know how much mayhem a group of rowdy teenagers can cause? There are a lot of breakable things here."

"Ned and MJ are both part of his team, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"I think you'll be okay, Tony."

They reached their quarters and he dropped her bag in a chair.

"Anyway, I was thinking that you could talk to your son."

"And…?"

"And talk him into letting _you_ give the tour."

She smiled and shook her head, heading into the bedroom, shedding her skirt as she walked.

"That's not going to happen. You made the bet. You get to give the tour. I suggest you do it in your Ironman suit. It'd be far more interesting that way."

"Pepper..."

"Nope." She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him lightly, amused and not bothering to hide it. "When is this field trip supposed to happen?"

"We haven't gotten that far, yet."

"Is that _all_ you lost to him today?"

"No. Like I said. Your son is a hustler. Barely 16 and already lost to the dark side..."

"What else did you lose?"

"I'll tell you later."


	67. Chapter 67

Peter was sitting upright on the sofa in his living room when Pepper walked into his quarters with Tony. The 3-D chessboard had been returned to its box and was sitting on the floor, leaning against the coffee table and there was a large brown shipping box on the coffee table. The boy was watching a TV program when she arrived, but he turned it off when he looked over at her arrival. He saw that she must have stopped by her rooms before coming to see him. That morning she'd been dressed for business, and now her clothing of choice was a pair of slacks and a sweater, with her hair back in a ponytail.

"Hi, Pepper."

"Hi, sweetheart." She sat down beside him, careful to chose the uninjured side since he had a blanket draped over his lap and she couldn't see where his hip was, precisely. "How was your day?"

"It was good. I-"

"Don't act all _innocent_ , young man," Tony told him, leaning over the back of the sofa and putting his arms around Peter, pulling him back toward him and hugging him – despite the harshness of his words. "I've already told her how you hustled me."

That was the whole point of meeting her in the garage and getting to her before Peter and his big, innocent, puppy dog eyes could hypnotize her into believing everything the boy said.

"I don't know what you mean," Peter said with a smile, looking up at Tony, first, and then smiling at Pepper. "Did he tell you about the Mona Lisa?"

Pepper frowned, looking over at Stark with a raised eyebrow. Tony's innocent look was not even close to being as convincing as Peter's was.

"No. He told me about the field trip he has to give your friends."

Peter shook his head.

"I tried to tell him that we didn't need to wager. It's just as much fun playing without betting on the outcome."

"Yeah. _After_ he let me win a couple of games to get my guard down," Tony said. " _That_ is the whole definition of hustling, you know…"

Pepper shook her head.

"Did you hustle him?"

"I tried to make it something that he really wouldn't want to _do_ , but he insisted. That's not my fault."

"No. I agree." She looked over at the shipping package. "What's in the box?"

Peter grinned, and Tony let him go so that he could show Pepper the camera that Elmer's wife had sent. She was properly impressed and admired it, pointing out that he might be able to use the night lens to get shots of the deer that came out to graze on the compound field. He'd taken some pictures of them with his phone, but the camera would certainly prove capable of taking much better images.

"Good idea," he approved, putting the camera back in its case and then changing the subject to what her day had entailed.

Tony came around to the sofa as well and settled on the other side of Peter while they talked, and he smiled at Pepper, who put her arm around the back of Peter and rested her hand behind the boy's head, where Tony could catch it with his without interrupting their conversation. While Pepper told them about finishing up the merger with the VR company that had sent them their prototypes to try out, Stark considered – again – just how different his life was now, compared to even two years before.

The change in his relationship with Pepper and the inclusion of Peter into their lives was somewhat profound, really, and he had to admit, even if it was just to himself, that he was as content as he'd ever been. And more than his younger self would have ever thought possible.

He was brought out of his reverie when Pepper asked him what they'd had for lunch and if they were ready for dinner. He dutifully reported that he'd fed Peter burgers for lunch and both of them were definitely ready and willing to eat whenever she was.

"Peter's still confined to his rooms," Tony told her, letting her hand go. "I can go get us something – maybe even make a request if there's something in particular you're hungry for."

"I'll have some of Peter's pie from last night and whatever's on the menu."

"That would be difficult," Stark said. "Not the menu part, but the pie."

"You guys ate it _all_?"

"It was pretty _good_ pie," Peter pointed out, his expression guileless.

" _See_?" Tony asked, pointing at Peter, but looking at Pepper. " _That's_ the hustle look."

Pepper laughed.

"Go get us some dinner, Tony. I'm hungry."

OOOOOO

They spent the evening on the couch in Peter's room. They played Scrabble, first, and Pepper once more proved to the men in her life that she was pretty smart. Not like they didn't both know it. When the game ended, Peter was putting the tiles back in their bag and a sudden change in air pressure outside the walls of his room drew his attention.

Tony watched him, realizing from the barely audible rumble that also reverberated through the building that the boy was aware of the moment that the Quinjet took off and he couldn't miss the disappointment in Peter's expression at being left behind.

"Let's watch a movie," he suggested, drawing Peter's attention from the missed flight.

The boy nodded, and handed the remote to Pepper, silently telling her that she could choose what they watched. She won the Scrabble game, after all. It was only fair. Then he settled on the couch, laying down and putting his head on her leg rather than leaning against her side. Pepper tucked his blanket around him and then winked at Tony and found the chickiest chick flick that she could – which made him roll his eyes, amused. Stark asked Karen to turn off the lights, found a blanket for him and Pepper to share and drew her head down to his chest and the three settled in for the night.

If anyone needed him, they knew where to find him, Tony knew.

OOOOOO

He roused when he felt someone picking him up.

"Shhh…" it was Tony. "I'm going to put you to bed, okay?"

"I'm not tired."

He heard Pepper's amused chuckle, and reached up, unerringly finding Stark's jaw.

"Well, I am. And Pepper won't let me go to bed until you're tucked in and settled. She doesn't want you rolling off the sofa and hurting yourself."

"That's a mom thing, huh?" Peter asked him, sleepily.

"Yeah," he agreed, carrying him into his room. "Dads would just duct tape you to the sofa."

Peter nodded his agreement, much more asleep or awake and pretty much agreeing to whatever Tony was saying, even if it didn't make sense. He never opened his eyes as he felt his blankets covering him and Tony leaning over him, the scruff of his facial hair brushing against Peter's cheek.

"Do you need anything?"

"I have everything I need," Peter replied, already going back to sleep.

Tony smiled. He hoped so, He certainly was trying. His hand brushed Peter's cheek as he straightened up.

"I'll see you in the morning."


	68. EPILOGUE

_Epilogue_

OOOOOOO

The crowd wasn't a big one. Fifteen people standing on the edge of a small parking lot. Two firetrucks and a lot of activity, water spraying everywhere and firemen running around obeying orders being shouted at them by their chief.

Peter turned from the burning building and looked over at Tony, who was standing beside him.

"Are you going to tell Pepper?"

Stark hesitated, but then he shrugged and nodded.

"She's going to find out one way or another."

With a somewhat murky – not quite clean, but not spotless – bill of health, Peter had been allowed to return to school. And to being Spiderman. His first few days of both had been difficult. The students at his school were well aware of his newfound status as Tony Stark's son. It was hard not to be when it had been Tony that drove him in the first days, and Stark who also picked him up after, anxious to hear how things had gone as he drove him to the tower so pepper could hear how things had gone, as well.

There was some jealousy – kids snubbed him because they assumed that he would think he was too good for them – and a lot of people who tried to become friends that were unsuccessful. Not that Peter was rude to anyone, but he had already established way back when he was unpopular who his friends were, and as shy as he was, he tended to stick with them almost exclusively. He had been snubbed before, so he didn't mind.

But he did tend to spend most of his time with Ned, and occasionally with MJ.

He had been relieved that first day to find that he wasn't as behind as missing so much school might have made him. The copious amounts of homework that he'd done had kept him up with his fellow classmates and the few times that he'd faltered that first week back, the Mind stone had provided him an answer before he'd had a chance to panic. It wasn't in his head _all_ the time - or even most of the time - but it hadn't abandoned him by any means, and he wasn't sure, but he thought that he could feel it right on the edge of his consciousness sometimes.

Once they were sure he was settled in his classes, Pepper had somewhat hesitantly approved him going back to patrolling his old neighborhood as Spiderman. Not that he _had_ to have her permission, but Tony had pulled him aside and had explained that it would just be easier all around if she were on board with the idea, and had suggested that his first few times out, he keep things low key to avoid stressing her.

Peter agreed, of course. He wasn't going to go out of his way to upset anyone – _especially_ Pepper.

He'd hang around the neighborhood – literally – after school and return to the safehouse and change back into unassuming Peter Parker once he was sure there wasn't anything that needed his attention. Then he would simply catch a bus to the tower and spend time in his rooms there, working on homework or playing pinball – sometimes against Happy or one of the many people who worked or lived in the tower, and sometimes alone. Or he would hang out in Pepper's office while she worked, just enjoying time with her.

Every now and then he'd take the new camera out onto the deck and take advantage of the high-quality lenses and take photos of the other buildings, or the activity on the streets below. He wasn't the picture taker that Ned was – very few people were, really – but he was enjoying the new hobby, and Pepper and Tony both approved, since it kept him out of trouble.

Once Pepper was finished working, she'd drive them home where Tony would be waiting, leaning on Peter's Pontiac when they pulled into the garage. They'd eat dinner as a family, and sometimes play games with the others – and Dr. Strange when he was around – or on occasion, Peter would feel that familiar tingle that would drive him to get his teleportation stone and head back to the city for a few hours.

Aware that they worried – Pepper more than Tony, since he could keep track of Peter through the integration of their AIs – Peter always checked in when he returned to his quarters, to make sure Pepper knew he was safe and sound and would be able to sleep that night.

Life was settling fairly well, with Peter thriving in his environment. He was still sleepwalking, occasionally, but it wasn't often, and never beyond the confines of the compound. By the time a month had gone by without any meltdowns, Pepper had reminded Tony that he was supposed to be running a field trip at the compound for Peter's friends, which had made Stark roll his eyes. (He'd privately hoped that everyone would have forgotten about it, and Peter hadn't been in any hurry to press the issue).

Then, hoping to distract them both, Tony had reminded Peter that he had a gift certificate for a cooking class that they were supposed to use up. Pepper had smiled, not at all fooled, and had advised them both that _she_ would call and set up the times for the class, and had handed Tony a phone number for Peter's Academic Decathlon teacher/advisor and had suggested that he get started on getting the field trip set up since there would be a lot of permission slips and waivers that would need to be filled out. As well as activities for the students to keep them engaged while they were at the compound. Stark had simply sighed and taken the paper from her and started making calls.

The cooking class was promising to be much more interesting – and he'd been right, certainly.

OOOOOOO

The owner/instructor of the cooking school walked by, wringing her hands and watching the firemen at work.

"I'll take care of everything," Stark said to her.

She smiled, and put a hand on his arm.

"We have _insurance_ ," she assured him. "You're not the first person to catch a stove on fire."

"The first person to try to put it out with a glass of _vodka_ , though, I bet," Peter said, earning a sour look from Tony, and a smile from the cooking instructor.

"I thought it was _water_."

It had been on the counter – and was being used by the two intrepid cooks at the station next to the one Peter and Tony had been assigned to use. Peter didn't know what recipe they were making that required vodka, but he thought it was probably more interesting than the tuna casserole that he and Tony had been trying to make.

The stove had gone up quickly, and Stark had activated his Ironman suit, but there wasn't a fire extinguisher attachment on the thing, and while Peter had been quick to grab the fire extinguisher off the wall, the two men in the station beside him and Tony had waved towels at the flames to put them out and had only succeeded in setting the towels on fire and fanning the flames to higher levels, catching the walls, next.

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark," she said, obviously trying to reassure him. "It wasn't completely your fault – and could happen to anyone."

Peter was just glad that he wasn't the one that had been adding the oil to the boiling water and had poured it onto the open flames of the stovetop. The woman was waved over by one of the firemen, and Tony looked at Peter.

"You heard her. It could happen to anyone. I expect you to tell Pepper that."

"She's never going to let us cook anything, now. You know that, right?"

"Yeah." Tony shrugged, and then sighed and put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "That's what take out is for."

Peter rolled his eyes, amused, and moved out of the way when another firetruck pulled up.

 **The End**

OOOOOO

 _A/N: So another story down, and it was a fun one for me to write. I have another in mind, but I have to wonder if I overwhelm with updates and they come too soon, or if readers would prefer less chapters coming at them. Anyway, I hope it was fun and watch for the next one to begin in the next day or two and thanks for reading!_


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